


Nekea and Jonas

by evenstar8705



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gaslighting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mild Sexual Content, Occupation of Bajor, Partner Betrayal, Suicide Attempt, Terok Nor (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 02:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21925864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evenstar8705/pseuds/evenstar8705
Summary: Nekea Rajo just wanted to surprise her husband for their wedding anniversary but when she arrives on Terok Nor, she is horrified by what she sees. She starts to find comfort in the arms of a Bajoran man instead of her proper Cardassian husband.
Relationships: Original Cardassian Female/Original Bajoran Male
Comments: 8
Kudos: 7





	1. Prologue

Nekea felt that the shuttle ride to Terok Nor was agonizingly long. The security almost prevented her from boarding in the first place. They were convinced she was some sort of Dissident or Bajoran Resistance operative disguised as a Cardassian woman carrying a bomb instead of a wedding anniversary gift in her luggage. She was wearing a cloak and hood to surprise her husband. He had no clue she was coming to visit him and wanted to keep it that way. 

“Search me and my things!” she said with indignation. “I am a citizen of Cardassia and my husband is Glinn Rajo. I am Nekea Rajo. Look it up!”

After a basic scan proving her luggage was mundane, the security officer said, “You don’t understand. Wives are never permitted on the space station.”

“Why?”

“Prefect Dukat’s orders as of last year.”

“Why?”

“Civilians are dumb enough to question orders. We are not.”

“Look, it’s my wedding anniversary! All I ask is to spend it with my husband!”

“Congratulations, but no. Why should you be entitled to something like that? We soldiers miss out on such time with spouses so often. It is commonplace.”

She realized she would have to bribe this bastard. Luckily her mother-in-law still loved her and had supported her impulse to see her son. She gave him half of her money. He asked for more or only her gift would be passing through. She hesitated. If she gave him everything she had a sickening feeling that her husband would resent her and might even refuse to pay her passage back home. She could always call her in-laws for more, but that would be humiliating. Her own parents couldn’t possibly afford it.  
“Make a decision, woman!” the officer said impatiently.

“Hey, over here!” a young Cardassian couple waved Nekea over.

“One moment,” Nekea decided to take a chance.

She followed the couple out of earshot. They looked around for security devices and spoke in Nekea’s native dialect. They said they had been watching her and heard her speaking to herself. They were familiar with her province. 

“Who are you?” she asked.

“We are students of Natima. Have you ever heard of her?” they asked.

“In passing.”

“We heard that you are having difficulty getting onto the station of Terok Nor. It is near impossible to get civilians up there! We would like to assist you.”

“What do you get out of it?” she wasn’t stupid.

“Natima has a friend stationed there. His name is Gul Russol.”

“I have never heard of him.”

“Didn’t you just say your husband was a Glinn?”

She sighed, “My husband joined the military recently compared to most and he refuses to speak to me about work. When he does, most of the military jargon goes over my head. I prefer poetry to acronyms and ranks. I know next to nothing more than the average citizens about Guls and Glinns.”

“Very well. Natima wants an honest report of exactly what is taking place up there. Report everything you hear to Gul Russol. If you invoke his name, that security officer might accept your bribe.”

Nekea grew nervous, “Are you asking me to spy or something?”

“Not spy. We aren’t asking you to go anywhere you are not permitted. You are not to break any rules or laws or steal anything. We merely ask that you observe your surroundings, the conditions of both the Cardassians and Bajorans, and declare your thoughts and feelings on what you see. We want a neutral, unbiased opinion.”

Nekea stared at them hard and whispered, “Are you Obsidian Order?”

They chuckled and answered, “If we were, we wouldn’t tell you, of course! Look, trust us or don’t. Report what you see or don’t. Just tell that man you are acquainted with Russol and we guarantee you get to see your husband. Otherwise, you wasted your time and resources for nothing.”

Nekea clicked the heels of her boots and turned away from them. In a flash, she made her decision. She returned to the security officer with a determined set in her jaw. She forced a hard glint her eyes and imagined that those heels made her tall and imposing.

“I’m getting to Terok Nor,” she told him. “My husband and I are owed a favor by Gul Russol. Get him on call, if you have to.”

“Gul Russol?” the officer’s eyes definitely flickered.

“Yes.”

“I will call him! If he tells me you’re wasting everyone’s time-“

“He won’t!”

The officer began to make the call. Nekea felt a wave of sickening terror wash over her body but didn’t show it. She was no soldier, but maybe her husband would be proud. Probably not. 

“What can I do for you?” the Gul’s voice was in the air. “Make haste!”

“There’s a woman here by the name of Nekea Rajo. She insists that she and her husband are owed a favor by you. She’s demanding passage to the station.”

There was a long silence. Nekea was ready to be arrested or thrown out on her backside. The officer looked vindicated.

To her utter relief, the Gul said, “Ah, yes. Board her.”

With that, he abruptly ended his side of the call. Nekea gave the officer a smug smile as he reacted with shock.

“Keep your face covered, woman!” he sounded as though he detested her.

“I’m not an idiot!”

“You’ll never see me again,” he promised. “None of this occurred. You smuggled yourself on this station if anyone asks.”

“Whatever.”

She was glad he hadn’t gone through her bags more thoroughly. She did have a tiny bone artifact within that could have gotten her into enormous trouble if he had any idea what it was. Not a single soul knew she possessed it.

When she boarded the shuttle, she caressed the artifact within her fingers as though it were truly sacred. It gave her comfort as she wrestled with her thoughts. Although her mother-in-law gave her blessing, her father-in-law had given her a withering look when she told him what she had planned. She loved that man more than her real father and puzzled over his changing attitude toward her. She had known the man half her life and he had been nothing but warm and soft spoken to her until now.

“Father,” she said. “What is it? What is wrong?”

“I think you are a fool for going over my son’s head like this. You are going to get him in trouble with his superiors. I think you are the one that has been holding my son back all these years.”

What he said hurt her so horribly she wanted to burst into tears but she was so confused. What did he mean? Did he really think that? Could it possibly be true? No, her father-in-law didn’t live with them! He couldn’t know the truth!

She had done nothing but support her husband all these years! Did this man have any idea how many nights she had stayed up helping his son study? Did he know that she was the one that shook him awake to go to work or other appointments when his alarm failed to wake him because he wasted his daylight hours doing pointless things? Did he have any clue she cooked and cleaned for him or the man would have withered away slowly? Did he appreciate that she wiped away his tears, took bottles of kanar from his hand and soothed him to sleep until he was ripped away to be a soldier?

Still, she kept hearing those words like a recording on repeat in her brain as the stars and blackness of space went by in her window, “I think you are the one that has been holding my son back.”

She stared out the shuttle window and part of her wished she could open the window and let herself be lost in space forever.


	2. Happy Anniversary?

When Nekea arrived on Terok Nor, she was greeted by the most peculiar alien she had ever seen. He was tall and gangly with what almost looked like a half-formed pale face. She wondered if he was human, but if he was, he was the ugliest human! He wore a black uniform with no insignias, decorations, and no name plastered onto it. A scowl seemed permanently in place on his too-thin lips. He had blonde hair slicked neatly behind oversized ears, and his pale blue eyes were cold and hard.

“May I trouble you for direction to Glinn Rajo’s quarters?” she asked him. “I am his wife and today is our second wedding anniversary.”

He stood there as though he couldn’t hear or understand. Then he beckoned her to the nearest computer. He checked her identification then brought up a map showing her the relevant layout of the station, pointing to the Glinn apartments. A glance was all she needed.

“Thank you.”

The strange man nodded his head and waved her away with impatience.

She had hoped he would escort her, but his silence was a bit unnerving as was his appearance. She was convinced he was probably Dukat’s pet Changeling her husband had mentioned masquerading as a detective or bounty hunter or something of that sort. It was best she avoid him if possible.

There was not a soul within the rooms when Nekea arrived. She thought she had been pointed to the wrong place for a moment. It was cluttered with clothes, dishes, hand held electronics, and all kinds of so called ‘affordable luxuries’. Her husband could be a slob at times, but she had never allowed his bad habit to become this severe. She hoped the military life would cure this tendency but apparently they didn’t care about a soldier’s personal quarters?

“Oh, Dreth,” she said his name under her breath. “You haven’t really changed, have you? I haven’t seen you for over six months. What would this place look like in a full year?”

Nekea constantly had to clean up after him while they were living together under the same roof. They met in school as teenagers and had the same group of friends. They lived within reasonable distance of each other. They considered splitting when it was time to enter the higher academies, but instead they attended the same place and prepared for a long engagement. It was so long their family and friends began to question whether they intended to marry at all. They were celebrating their second anniversary, but they had been lovers for over seven years total.

Nekea came from a modest family. Her mother was an electrician and her father was a minor bank clerk. Dreth was from a much wealthier family. His father was a music teacher at one of the best music academies on Cardassia. Music was deceptively mathematical to Cardassians. Dreth’s mother was a scientist tweaking energy production. They had expected their son to follow along one of those paths, but he was a hopeless case of a privileged young man that wanted to rebel against them even though there was absolutely no reason to rebel. 

Nekea loved to write, but arts and literature were considered a hobby, not a profession. It was only to be indulged after a more useful career. As a Cardassian woman, she was expected to become a scientist or judge. She loved history and so she was pursuing anthropology and archeology. Mathematics and certain dry sciences didn’t come easily to her. She had a brain that craved to flex her creativity and not analytical things. She was sentimental not clinical. She was having a hard time graduating and spent time at digs under the real professionals to keep her from being kicked out of the programs.

Dreth was able to use his father’s name to get into his school but quickly tired of music. He changed his field of study several times and found he wasn’t happy or talented in much of anything. He settled with the most generic degree he could get. His father used nepotism to keep him from getting expelled when he failed exams or forgot to finish projects. Nekea was able to save him from humiliation by dropping off assignments he forgot or forced him to write papers, practically feeding him ideas and words. Her performance suffered as a result. 

Dreth graduated before her and realized his degree was practically useless. He married her but then joined the military without consulting her. She was devastated, but of course, his parents were proud. Nekea knew she’d be forced to spend a lot of time alone. He made her feel lonely even when he was home. She told herself her husband was depressed and needed to adjust to military life. He’d never liked being told what to do. She didn’t understand his impulse to join in the first place, but as his wife, she was supposed to support him and Cardassia in everything.

There was a narrow path through the piles of clutter that led to the sofa, the bathroom and the replicator. The bedroom was stuffed so full no one could sleep in there. It was a nightmare for anyone with OCD, and most Cardassians valued cleanliness more than other species. Nekea was no slob or neat freak, but this hoarding had clearly gone on too long! She had no place to unpack or sleep and Dreth was nowhere to be seen. She began to clean and organize as much as she could. 

By the time her husband finally made an appearance, the rooms looked much better than they had.

“Dreth, my darling!” she rushed to embrace him.

He seized her shoulders, but instead of kissing her, he demanded, “What have you done?”

“Aren’t you the least bit happy to see me?” she was confused. “Can’t you say you missed me?”

“That depends on your actions.”

She scoffed at his words. He was holding his affections and feelings hostage? What did he expect from her? What had she done to displease him this time? He liked to hold grudges for the most minor conceived slights. Dozens of different expectations and excuses danced in her head. Even when there wasn’t an obvious reason, Dreth managed to invent one every time. This was a game he inflicted on her she could never win. It frustrated her to no end!

“I came here to be with you,” she told the truth. “Did you notice I organized your mess? Happy Anniversary, by the way!”

Instead of being grateful or returning her sentiment, he said, “There was a method to my madness. It looked like chaos to you, but it was organized to my personal taste.”

“Can’t you place this junk in storage? Where did you get this stuff?”

“My quarters practically are storage! These are confiscated items that I sort and have moved elsewhere for Prefect Dukat!”

“Confiscated items? From whom? I wasn’t aware you worked so closely with the Prefect of Bajor!”

“How did you get here?” he dodged her question with an accusing one.

“I’m much smarter and well connected than you give me credit for, Dreth!”

“You shouldn’t address me by anything other than my last name now.”

“I’m not doing that!” she shook her head. “I am your wife and not a soldier! If I don’t get to call you by your given name, who can?”

“It sounds off-putting.”

“Off-putting?” Nekea exclaimed. “What else do you find off-putting?”

“Was my mother behind you getting here?” he groaned.

“It was me,” she lied, but at least when she did it, her lies were white. “It was all me.”

He stared at her. She stared back, eyes pleading desperately for affection or rejection. Either of those was better than nothing. Finally, he gave her a peck on her lips like some sort of hard won consolation prize. She wanted to pull him closer for a real kiss and shove him away at the same time. It was like there were two different people wanting to be expressed. One person was the dutiful wife that wanted nothing but her husband’s happiness and the other was a bitter wife that wanted him to go away and not be there anymore!

“Wives and civilians aren’t supposed to be on Terok Nor.”

“So I was told!”

“I’m going to have to try to hide you. If Gul Dukat discovers you are here, I’m afraid of what he will do.”

“Are you in danger?” she gasped, her bitter thoughts gone and nothing but love and concern dominated her heart again.

“I don’t know. Just try to stay here as much as you can and especially stay away from the fences and the mines and processing area!”

“The fences? You mean like actual metal and wire fences? Why is such a thing necessary on a space station?”

“They are there to keep the Bajoran animals separate from us.”

She reeled, “Are they really that crazed and violent? Are the Cardassian soldiers so terrified of terrorists they seal Bajoran women and children behind fences? If they’re so horrible, what are they doing here?”

“We need their labor. It is our hope that work will cure them of their stubbornness and superstitious ways,” her husband explained. “Gul Dukat wants to integrate them into the Cardassian Union someday. He has more faith in them than I do.”

“I had no idea Gul Dukat was so merciful.”

“Well, some of the Bajorans have their uses. A growing number of them are proving good servants.”

Nekea bowed her head. She hadn’t seen a Bajoran yet with her own eyes. She was curious and the instruction to avoid the fences made her want to seek them out on purpose now. Her husband wasn’t the only one in the marriage that occasionally had a rebellious streak in him.

“We should call your parents,” she whispered.

“Good idea. I need them to make arrangements to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

She was hurt, “Are you so eager to get rid of me?”

“You know it’s not that, it’s just-“

“Gul Dukat. Yeah. I’m sure that’s the reason.”

He rolled his eyes at her, “Your attitude isn’t winning you any love here!”

“Nothing I do seems to please you anymore,” she moaned.

He sighed and said nothing. Instead he dialed his mother and father. They were relieved that Nekea had made it onto the station safely. Her father-in-law walked away from the screen then, giving them both the cold shoulder. Nekea chatted up her mother-in-law happily for a while.

“Are you two going to celebrate your anniversary properly?” the older woman asked boldly.

“Mother!” Dreth snapped.

“Well, son, you told me the two of you were having trouble! I wanted to give you some womanly advice, Nekea. Someone has to address your problem and I intend to do so from a warm place.”

Nekea shot her husband a sharp glance, then turned back to her mother-in-law, “My problem? Excuse me? I wasn’t aware I had a problem?”

“Let’s drop this subject!” Dreth cleared his throat loudly.

“No, I want to know about 'my' problem!” Nekea insisted. 

Her mother-in-law looked troubled, “Well, daughter, I hate to say it out loud, but your lover has complained to me that you will not bed him whenever he asks.”

“That’s not true!” it took every ounce of Nekea’s control not to hiss or scream. “He is the one that is too tired or not in the mood!”

“Well…” the other woman trailed off and looked terribly conflicted. 

“Mother, I have to drop this call now!”

“Work this out, Dreth! Nekea?”

When Dreth terminated the call, Nekea sat on the sofa, stunned and humiliated by the exchange. She waited for her husband to explain himself. He scratched the back of his neck and sighed. 

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Am I hungry?” she repeated. “No! I’m incredibly upset. I went to enormous effort to get here to see you and I am greeted by this! Do you want to know what your father said to me before I left?”

“Probably not.”

“Too bad!” she snapped. “He said he is convinced I have been holding you back. What does he mean by that? Who gave him that impression? Do your parents actually think I have any sort of influence or control over your actions?”

“I have no idea.”

She raised her hands to cup her face and they trembled and remained frozen midway through the air. She felt cold anger and disgust in the pit of her stomach. She felt such betrayal from both her husband and father-in-law. The cluttered surroundings pressed on her nerves and made her feel claustrophobic. She hadn’t been here but one night and she felt like she had fallen through a wormhole into some alternate universe set against her in every way.

“I will talk to my father,” Dreth could see the pain in her eyes. “I will tell him he couldn’t be more wrong! My mother is mistaken. She must have misheard me. I was complaining that you were ill that one time. That’s all! She jumped to some false conclusions. She likes to do that. Forgive them, please?”

He was trying to smooth talk her. They had been through this sort of routine many times before. The trouble was that she was getting fed up with it. He replicated a meal for her and started to act nurturing and loving. She allowed him to undress her and start to bathe her in the tub. He rubbed her back a few times, but when she clutched his hand and tried to give him an intimate kiss and pull him in with her, he protested.

“What is wrong now?” she couldn’t help but ask. “Are we going to celebrate our anniversary or not?”

“I’m fully clothed and in armor. It will all get wet and rusty.”

“So take them off!”

“I’m tired and you are tired. It has been a long and terribly exciting day. You are still rattled. I don’t want to have angry sex.”

“You don’t want it at all!” she splashed him. “Yet your mother seems convinced I’m the prude in this relationship!”

He sighed again, “We need some time to cool off and this matter settled. Goodnight.”

“Where are you going?”

“There’s another room across from here. I usually sleep there.”

“So you aren’t even spending the night with me? On our wedding anniversary?”

“Goodnight.”

He left the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. She heard the main door open and close as well. He was really gone, leaving her alone, naked, and frustrated in a tub of lukewarm water. She sat in it long after it became freezing cold. She didn’t mind the frigid temperature. She hoped she would get ill or freeze to death before anyone discovered her.


	3. Gul Russol

Nekea had fallen asleep in the tepid, cold water and woke still in solitude at some odd hour between shifts. She lazily dressed herself, feeling numb in body but aching in whatever she had left of her spirit. Her husband had abandoned her on their wedding anniversary! She assumed he must be asleep. It was long before the hour when most soldiers should be waking. 

She applied blue henna to the crease in her forehead, as most married Cardassian women did, but she applied no other cosmetics. Unlike her peers, she didn’t tease her hair into complicated hair styles. She kept her naturally wavy golden-brown hair loose and long. That was a rare but not uncommon color and texture for some Cardassians. Black and straight was standard, but she had heard of some women in the Kelan Province that had bits of copper color pigments. She wasn’t Kelani and envied them very much. Her eyes were such a dark gray that they looked black. She thought they were incredibly boring but they were large and wide. They gave her the appearance of a naïve child. Sometimes she knew that was exactly what she was.

She replicated breakfast rations because a finer meal was locked behind rank and she wasn’t really hungry anyway. Her husband may be a Glinn, but he was the lowest ranked of that class on the station. Frankly, she wondered how he had managed that much in such a short time. Perhaps her father-in-law had pulled strings with his money and influence. She would have proudly credited the promotions to Dreth once upon a time. She was slowly realizing her faith had been misplaced. 

The rations were nutritious but flavorless. She took a reluctant bite and pocketed several in case she was hungry later. She had no currency for whatever food shops were on the Promenade. Then she studied her reelection in the looking glass nearest to her. There were plenty of mirrors in the litter of the quarters. She wanted to smash them after a glance at her reflection. Her body contortions were all wrong! No wonder her husband didn’t seem to want her anymore!

She began to sob uncontrollably until she fiercely bit her wrist, biting as hard as she dared. She didn’t want to tear into veins or cause scars. It was just that the focus upon physical pain was so much easier than dealing with the mental. Teeth marks healed faster than knife wounds and inflicted just enough pain for an endorphin release.

She tasted blood and began to panic. She’d never broken her mix of skin and scales before! She washed and bandaged the wound immediately and considered racing to the medical quarters. She may not seem sane, but her survival instinct was sharper than her teeth. The sight of blood and the quarters made her feel claustrophobic and desperate. 

She left the room and the air outside felt fresh and sweet for recycled and filtered air on a space station. The subtle sinking pull of false gravity was making her uneasy as well. Everyone else became used to that after a few weeks. She had not had a full day to adjust. She was glad she hadn’t attempted to eat breakfast. She pulled her cloak to her body and walked wherever her instinct led her.

It led her to the fences she had been told to avoid. The smooth-skinned Bajorans were on the other side of it. She feasted her eyes upon them. At least she could finally say she had done that. They were dressed in rags. Their faces and hands were dirty and they smelled of sweat and urine. Some had rattling coughs and eyes going dim from the mines. She noticed there were fewer women than men. A few young females turned their heads at her, realized she was female, and lost interest. Their only ticket beyond the fence was to attract a male soldier. The Bajoran men gazed at her with nothing but pure hatred.

Oh, but their women were so beautiful! Some of the men were as pretty as they were. Nekea had always been a person quick to criticize her own ugliness but praise the redeeming features in others no matter the species or phylum of creature.   
She noticed a child clinging to the fence. It was a boy that was naked, skeletal, and his brown eyes devoid of hope. She was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. She didn’t think. She walked slowly toward him. The boy’s eyes widened in terror and then surprise. He’d clearly never seen a Cardassian female. If her husband found her so repulsive, she imagined this child must see her as a monster less frightful than her male comrades within a minor degree.

She offered the rations she had to the child. He almost scurried away but he noticed she must have already taken a bite. When he hesitated, she took another tiny bite, realizing he must have suspected poison. The other Bajorans began to take note of her and what she was doing. All she cared about was the child.

“Please take it,” she begged him. “Take all I have. It’s no use to me. Better to give it to anyone else.”

He snatched it like a wild cub and stuffed it greedily in his mouth. He acted as though it was the most delicious thing in the world. She took off her cloak, folded it into as tight a clump as she could and she forced it through the spaces in the fence. There was just enough for the boy to take that as well and wrap it around him finally giving him some dignity. He gave her such a look of gratitude and the adult Bajorans began to chatter excitedly in their alien but dazzling language. She felt a swelling of something resembling happiness in her bones.

“What you have just done is considered a crime on this station.”

At that commanding voice, the boy was gone quick as lightning strikes in the stratosphere and Nekea let out a cry. She turned to see a Cardassian man with silver hair. It was Cardassian custom to dye the hair black to disguise one of the few signs of aging or to bleach it white in resignation. The silver-gray in-between was considered something of an embarrassment. This man didn’t care for such vanity. His irises were blue but the entirety of his eyes were becoming so milky that they looked paler than blue eyes she’d ever seen. He was of average height and muscular for a man approaching the end of his career. He was also clearly a high ranking Gul. Her husband had given her just enough knowledge to spot the signs.

“Who are you?” she almost choked on fear. “What crime did I commit?”

“Several. You are trespassing, you are feeding prisoners without authorization, you are possibly spying, and you don’t belong here in the first place!” his eyes were like blue flames. “I am Gul Russol, the man you invoked to get here.”

“I can explain!” she held up her arms as though expecting a blow.

“Oh, you will,” he chuckled. “You will follow me.”

“What if I don’t?” she knew it was a stupid question tumbling from her lips.

He smiled, “Then you will miss out on some good kanar!”

She had expected an unoriginal threat that someone might write for a holoprogram and was genuinely surprised by that line. She also knew a civilian couldn’t disobey a Gul and she did owe this man something. She followed him to his quarters. He gave her a glass of kanar, sipping it himself. 

“I might as well do you the same courtesy you did for that Bajoran boy,” he said.

“Thank you, but why are you so generous?”

“Proper Cardassian custom!”

She didn’t really like kanar but she couldn’t refuse. Hospitality could be used as a shield.

“Tastes extra bitter. What vintage is it?”

“My secret.”

“So why am I here? Why aren’t you arresting me, Gul Russol?” she asked. 

“I want to know who told you to use my name.”

“Honestly, I don’t know who the exact people were that suggested it to me,” she responded. “I never met them before. They said they were students. They looked like a couple. They were young. They said they sympathized with my plight. All I wanted was to surprise my husband on our anniversary. That has gone splendidly! What more can I tell you?”

He stared at her as she took another sip, “Did they mention names of others?”

“They mentioned Natima.” 

“Natima? Was that a first name or last name? Where is the rest of it?”

“Why are you interrogating me?”

“My subjects usually don’t ask me so many damned questions! It’s quite cute!” he sneered at her. “We need more people to ask questions. You are not educated elite that always think they know better. Was the full name Natima Lang?”

“That makes the most sense. She is a professor of political ethics but not at my university. I might have read a word of two of her papers when it was relevant to my studies.”

She had taken a few more sips as she spoke. The Gul’s eyes never strayed from her and they seemed to sweep up and down her entire form as though he were scanning her like a machine and not the way a man would. She began to feel strange. She already felt sick, but she was suddenly feeling so much worse. It couldn’t have been normal. She licked her lips and stared at the little kanar remaining in her glass.

“Did you just drug me?” she hissed.

“You are smarter than your husband!” he declared with some pride. “It’s a harmless drug, I assure you. It is meant to loosen your tongue a bit. You didn’t seem to need it. I just wanted to know if you could actually tell you were under an influence. I test you but there is an actual point to my tests and I let you know immediately if you failed or triumphed unlike that chaotic man. I’m used to lies and resistance. You are clearly not an Obsidian Operative or anything nefarious like that. In fact, from this short conversation, I can tell you barely have a deceptive bone in your body!”

“What does my husband have to do with any of this? Do you need information on him?”

“Oh no! I know more than I ever cared to know about him! He needed no drugs to spill his guts to me! I went much quicker with you and drugged the first glass.”

“How did you drug it? I didn’t see you add anything and you drank from it before handing it to me.”

“I’m immune to my own concoctions and the creations of others. You have to be to live as long as I have in the high ranks of my profession. Especially with monsters like Gul Dukat swaggering around and spilling poison in ears with his tongue as well as putting literal poison in people’s food and beverages.”

“Are you Obsidian Order? What do you want from me? Did you orchestrate my getting here?” Nekea’s head was spinning from the drugs and this web she was caught in. “And why drug me if you know I’m not the type to lie?”

“A woman that ignores her condition and surroundings and impulsively feeds an enemy doesn’t seem like the type to be skilled at lying or to be insincere. The moment you did that I knew you were exactly what I needed. Natima Lang is a friend of mine and we are the opposite of the Obsidian Order. You are a civilian with nothing to gain or unlearn. We need you.”

“You must be Dissidents!” she didn’t know if that was better or worse than the Obsidian Order. “I am of no use to you! Why would you need me and not someone better?”

“I want you to spy for the Dissidents.”

“Me?” she was incredulous. “Why would I do that if I have nothing to gain, like you said? Do you think I’m crazy?”

“You have something of a death wish already.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You are Nekea Rajo. You are an anthropology student but you haven’t graduated after five years! Why is that?”

She sniffled, “I had to take several semesters off.”

“You mean you failed!” he spoke bluntly.

“To my undying shame, yes!” she shouted.

“You show all the signs of a woman that should be on suicide watch.”

“What?” 

“You are suffering a stress related illness right now. You are over defensive when speaking of your husband. You are easy to provoke emotionally once that is bypassed. You have bandages on your wrist. That is probably the most telling sign. Also, I have been watching from the second you arrived on this station! I heard you crying in your quarters. If I could hear you, your husband should have heard you. He did nothing, my poor sweet child.”

She bit her lip to keep from crying then and there, “Who else is watching me and knows my personal business?”

“Gul Dukat for one.”

“The Prefect already knows I’m here?” she said in alarm. 

“If his pet Changeling sees you, Dukat sees you.”

“Is my husband going to be punished? Will I be thrown off the station?”

“Dukat outranks me only in theory while here. Off the station, I outrank him. I am directly connected to Central Command. As for your husband, why should you care an iota for that man when he clearly cares for you superficially and grants you just enough affection and attention to keep you running back to his arms? What you feel in his presence is relief and not happiness.”

She hung her head, “You are saying aloud things I have been trying to tell myself all along.”

“You have a purpose beyond him,” Gul Russol said passionately. “I have chosen you to be my spy. The fact that you are a nobody is exactly what will give the Dissident movement some credence when we expose the nasty business going on here on Terok Nor. Your husband is being set up by the Prefect as a scapegoat. The confiscated items he is hoarding in the quarters you left moments ago were stolen from Bajorans.”

“Does my husband know that?” she asked with horror.

“Your husband gets to pocket some of the profit. He gets other perks as well. Investigate his sleeping quarters when you get the chance.”

“I don’t want my husband to die.”

“Even after some of his misdeeds have been revealed to you?” Gul Russol cocked his head.

She sighed, “I loved him once. We were happy in at least the first half of the relationship. I still love his family. Maybe we can salvage our marriage.”

“You might not be so forgiving in time,” the Gul snorted. “If only he appreciated you. Tell him nothing of this. Tell no one. If you help the Dissidents, perhaps we can protect Glinn Rajo. Maybe we can turn him into a witness. I doubt it, but we can try. I’ve attached a discrete recording device to your person. I won’t even tell you where it is. It’s microscopic and designed to be irremovable. If you wander near the fences again, I can’t save you a second time. Don’t be foolish. Instead, you will accept the Bajoran servant I send to you tomorrow to nurse your illness. Report to me how he behaves with you and all that he says.”

“And what if the Bajoran man kills me? What is the life of one ordinary Cardassian woman compared to the massive number of Bajorans we certainly have killed if but a quarter of the rumors are true?”

“Like I said, I know you have a death wish. After what the Bajorans witnessed you do today, I don’t think murder will be the first thing on their minds. You wouldn’t really refuse me anyway, would you?”

She took another sip of kanar knowing it was drugged and not caring and said venomously, “No, I suppose not.”


	4. The Prefect

When Nekea returned to her quarters, her husband was waiting for her, arms folded over his chest. His posture communicated that he was concerned but not about her. He didn’t notice her bandaged wrist or the fact that she was feeling the effects of illness and the side effects of being drugged. She was glad, for once, that he didn’t bother to ask. 

“Prefect Dukat has summoned us,” he announced with dread. “I was just about to have his Changeling hunt you down. It is never wise to leave that man waiting.”

“I’m glad you didn’t do that,” she shuddered at the thought of that creature. “Let’s go see Gul Dukat then.”

“How can you be so much more relaxed about this than me?”

“What is the worst that could possibly happen?” she smiled at his fear. “You know this man, don’t you? Would he lock us on the Bajoran side of the fence and let them justifiably rip us apart? I’m only a civilian and I have no real understanding of these matters, but I think he is more likely to ship us off the station and give you a lesser posting home or on a colony planet. Would it be so terrible to go home? Do you wish to avoid your family so much or is it just me you wanted to avoid by enlisting? That might explain why you did it without talking to me about it.”

“I never wanted to avoid you, Nekea! You are my wife!”

She grew silent and searched his face, trying to be as discerning as Gul Russol. Alas, she didn’t have his talent. Dreth must have seen the doubt in her eyes.

“I entered the recruitment office on a dare. They promised so much and I didn’t want to worry you by revealing the financial troubles I had. You remember how hard it was to find good employment! You are still attending classes and could only get some stipends from your digging projects. Father was threatening to cut me off from his accounts if I didn’t do something to prove I was a man. What would you have had me do instead? Huh?”

She sighed, “I never blamed you for any of that. You act like I expected the world from you. All I ever wanted was your love, Dreth.”

“I know you mean that.”

“I just wish you had done the courtesy of communicating to me. It is common courtesy to notify a spouse or lover about career changes.”

“What is done is done. There is no use dredging this up. Dukat is waiting.”

The Changeling was standing as still and silent as a statue in the corner of the Prefect’s office when they entered. Nekea made brief eye contact with him and looked away. She was surprised that the Prefect himself was shockingly handsome and oozed charm. He did not seem mean and threatening as Gul Russol had impressed upon her.

“So this is the woman causing such a commotion on my station?” he said with amusement. “No one told me she was so lovely!”

“I’m standing right here, Gul Dukat!” Dreth said flatly. 

“At ease, soldier!” Dukat sounded bored and irritated by him. “You remember I am married and don’t intend to steal your spouse? I am simply stating a fact. Besides, it’s entirely your fault that she is here!”

The Glinn bristled, “I swear I had no prior-“

“You’ve been neglecting your wife! What did you expect her to do? You ought to be admiring her resourcefulness. She is here and I am glad. She can provide reassurances to family and friends at home. Nekea, congratulations on your wedding anniversary! Did your husband provide a gift yet?”

“No.”

Gul Dukat glared at the man in question, “Perhaps I should grant this fine specimen a divorce? The single men on this station would line up to court her and take her for their own!”

Nekea suppressed peals of laughter but couldn’t stop a smile. She took secret pleasure at her husband’s humiliation. She hadn’t expected to start feeling affection for the Prefect of Bajor! He looked at her with appreciation but wasn’t disrespectful about it, at least not to her mind. She was enjoying it more than she probably should, but it was just that: Flirting.

It had been too long since anyone flirted with her. Other than her husband, she had hardly any experience. She kissed a boy when she was ten years old more out of curiosity than attraction. She enjoyed the sensation well enough, but something innately told her she was far too young for romance. She should wait until she met someone she really cared for. 

The boy she kissed was a bit of a troublemaker that rummaged through the local dumping grounds in their tiny community. She learned later it wasn’t because he was planning mischief with what he salvaged. His family was poor and he was trying to provide. She considered him a friend, so when she ran to the junkyard to play with him, she was sad to discover he had mysteriously vanished along with his family. She never knew what happened to them.

Dreth Rajo was the sole person that she felt any sort of powerful attraction to. She was pretty but not a great beauty. Her family was modest. Her fertility results were average and she had yet to graduate. Dreth was considered the best catch she could get unless she widened her search throughout the planet. She had never even entertained the idea of being unfaithful to him. When they attended the higher schools, she was too busy studying or taking care of him to really notice anyone else. 

Dreth had more dating experience than she did, but once he met her, he seemed quite content. She was grateful that he could guide her through the steps of courtship. As far as she knew, he had no interest in flirting with others or going beyond that. That’s why his diminishing passion was so puzzling. That and he had been the more lustful partner in the beginning. 

There were many nights she would have preferred sleep before an exam the next morning. He would paw at her until she realized neither of them would get any sleep unless she complied. She almost nodded off in lectures and had to reread her exam questions but never dreamed of denying her lover. Nearly every night he had expected something. These prolonged periods of no intimacy were even more baffling. She never thought she would be the partner begging for contact. Every male friend she knew of complained they had to beg for sex from their spouses and lovers. The females complained they were sick of it! If she had dared to admit what was lacking in their bedroom, she'd be a laughingstock!

“I brought an anniversary gift for Dreth,” she informed them all. “I decided to hide it in the clutter of his quarters. Good luck finding it now!”

She giggled mischievously and Dukat laughed. Dreth laughed a phony laugh that fooled no one. She meant what she said though. She pretty much always meant what she said. Her husband cleared his throat to say something and Dukat gestured for him to shut his trap.

“You’ve been sleeping in all that trash, my dear?” he leaned toward her. 

“Yes,” she was a bit wary.

“Unacceptable,” he shook his head. “No wonder you were wandering near the fences.”

He had managed to make her ill prepared for him to catapult the conversation in the direction of that sordid topic. Her chuckles died in her throat. She did her best to appear clueless and waited for him to continue speaking.

“I’m sure that wasn’t a pleasant experience,” Dukat’s tone was serious.

“The Bajorans looked so pitiful…” she trailed off and stared at his desk.

“You are a diamond in the rough, aren’t you, Nekea Rajo?” Dukat’s voice was low. “You are a Cardassian woman with a bleeding and open heart. You also have an open and generous hand.”

He was flattering her and threatening her. She wasn’t too dense to sense it. He knew what she had done. He didn’t have to repeat her crime. She nodded at him and waited patiently.

“The plight of the Bajorans troubles me greatly. You expect me to punish you for your actions? Well, I applaud you for them.”

“Really?” she parted her lips.

“Yes. Their state isn’t ideal. I have vowed to improve their lot, but it can be slow going. My overseers don’t always enforce my standards. The Bajoran workers’ rations were doubled as of today.”

“And will the children be clothed?” Nekea asked bravely.

“I honestly didn’t know there were more than a half dozen Bajoran children on the station. We will recount them and pay them better mind in the future. I have children myself and I can’t bear the thought of little ones suffering. It doesn’t matter to me if those children are Bajoran or Cardassian.”

“My husband spoke of you with admiration and said you were generous, but I didn’t think you might actually be a good man, Prefect Dukat.”

Nekea didn’t believe a word of what she said but it pleased Dukat very much. He basked in flattery and praise like a greedy lizard in the sun. She knew he was making false promises because if he was so concerned for the Bajorans, they would never have reached the rate of undernourishment she had seen for herself in that naked little boy. 

“Gul Russol has offered the pair of you his quarters and access to his replicator until the end of your stay here,” he said. “I can allow you to stay three weeks if you promise to sign a nondisclosure agreement about what you see and hear on Terok Nor. It’s a requirement with military secrets and all. You seem like an intelligent enough woman to understand.”

“Of course, Prefect. I will fully cooperate and sign.”

“Your spouse will sign as well.”

They signed everything he required. Nekea didn’t fail to notice in the fine print of the agreement it promised interrogation, imprisonment, and execution depending upon how loose they were with their tongues. She felt the wound on her wrist throb and realized too late she was bleeding a little through the bandages. A drop of blood dripped near her signature.

“You poor thing!” Dukat took her arm gently but without any sort of permission, making her gasp. “Not even the most patriotic citizens are expected to sign in their own blood! What happened to you?”

“Nekea, what is that?” Dreth spoke.

She gave her husband a contemptuous glance and said to the Prefect, “I scraped it upon broken glass in those messy quarters. Gul Russol promised to send me someone to treat it properly later.”

“The medical offices are supposed to be for military only but I could-“

“You should never make an exception for a civilian, Prefect,” she interjected. “Especially not for a woman as clumsy and silly as me.”

“You should get rest and plenty of it. You look ill. The upgrade in rooms will help enormously.”

He released her arm. She was astonished that he was releasing faint pheromones. His flirtations weren’t just politeness. Her husband became aware of them too and scowled. He was quick to take that same arm and lead her out of the office.

“Another thing,” Dukat said as an afterthought. “My Shifter will keep an eye on you, Nekea Rajo. Isn’t that right?”

The Changeling grunted and she said out loud, “That creature terrifies me more than anything on this station!”

“He’s merely my investigator,” Dukat said to comfort her. “He’s never harmed anyone. Please enjoy your time with your husband. Glinn Rajo, take some extra time to do so. I am limited to seeing my wife a few times a year, but I make the most of every moment that I am granted with her.”

“I will do that. Thank you, Prefect,” Dreth answered stiffly.

The Changeling hadn’t said a word the entire meeting. He didn’t even seem to breathe. He moved once to follow the pair with his cold blue eyes.

Her husband was eager to get her away, tugging with too much force on her injured arm. She was ill. She had barely escaped hypothermia, she had lost blood, and there were so many other elements at play battling with her body. She complained.

“What am I going to do with you?” he growled when he got her to Gul Russol’s quarters. “Why were you enticing Gul Dukat?”

“Enticing?” her eyes bulged. “Do you hear yourself?”

“You were buttering him up and giggling like a-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence!” she began to finally stand up for herself. “Did I react with pheromones myself? Can you smell them? No! There are none! That man could probably make me easily forget that he’s a tyrant. He is charming and handsome, but I was warned about what he is! Evil is not in my list of qualifications for a mate! You know me better than that, Dreth! Don’t you dare accuse me of wanting to cheat!”

“Did you lie about that wound?” he reached for her arm again.

“Don’t touch me!”

She said it with such sudden revulsion Dreth’s eyes flashed with pain and he excused her this one time, “You really are ill. You never behave this way. Let’s go to sleep.”

“You mean you’re not abandoning me this time?”

“No.”

She decided to sleep naked but wrapped in many blankets. She was surprised when Dreth got in on the other side of the bed. Even at home, he rarely slept the entire night with her. He preferred the sofa. She found his desire to be close to her quite suspicious. Then she remembered she wanted to salvage her marriage.

“I didn’t think I could possibly make you jealous,” she said softly, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I didn’t think so either.”

“That was a very odd experience.”

“Maybe I did overreact.”

They breathed the same air in awkward silence for a long time. Each pretended to fall asleep long before the other did. Her disquiet was growing. She found herself rising from the bed, away from him, and she settled on the sofa to sleep. Her husband didn’t stop her and she was glad.


	5. Medicine Man

When the equivalent of morning came in space, Nekea woke to the door chiming. Gul Russol greeted her husband as she slipped away to make herself presentable. She was feeling a bit stronger but didn’t want to reveal that. She heard the conversation transpiring as she dressed.

“I am grateful for the use of your quarters, Gul Russol. My wife thanks you for it and your handling of the, uh, misunderstanding at the fence.”

“You should keep her better,” the Gul’s voice was icy and formal. “If I were running this station, she would be in prison and you would be severely reprimanded.” 

“She was ignorant and-“

“If you are so grateful then you will accept my Bajoran servant’s presence without argument, Glinn Rajo.”

“A Bajoran?”

“Did she not tell you I would send someone to treat her?”

“But a Bajoran-“

“The doctors are for military personnel not civilians! It is but one reason why civilians don’t belong here. Do you have medical training beyond what they teach you in basic, Rajo?”

“No,” he stammered.

“Then the Bajoran man is the best you will get.”

“It’s a male?”

“Last I checked, yes!”

“Send him in.”

Nekea stepped into the room to see the Bajoran man enter. He wasn’t behind a fence! She couldn’t help but be excited. 

He had long blonde hair. Cardassian men rarely grew theirs so long and she had never seen a gold sheen like this. Her men didn’t grow whiskers or beards either. The Bajoran’s cheeks and chin were stubbly. He was lean and thin, shorter than her, and his lips were pink and delicate. His nose was bird-like and his skin smooth and pale. He looked so fragile. The only complaint she had was that he smelled and was filthy having obviously been plucked fresh from a mine.

“He isn’t radioactive, is he?” her husband turned up his nose. 

“Do you think me an imbecile?” Gul Russol pierced him with his gaze. “He has been through decontamination.”

“Dreth, are you going to let the man in or not?” Nekea spoke.

The Bajoran looked at her the way he would look at an exotic reptile at a menagerie. The mix of emotions was plain on his face. There was fear, awe, and a dose of childish curiosity. She had expected nothing but hatred.

“Nekea, are you really comfortable with this?” her spouse looked troubled. “Wouldn’t you at least prefer a female?”

She sniggered, “Aren’t the women as fierce as their men when provoked? I know they are all stronger than they look but this poor man has no muscle and our species is that much stronger.”

“You know no combat skills and are vulnerable,” he reminded her.

“This Bajoran knows the hell in store for him if he harms you or your wife,” Gul Russol said. “He is lucky to be out of the mines. Just about any task is pleasant compared to that.”

“Stay out of my way, Bajoran!” Dreth tried to sound intimidating. “And if you so much as think evil thoughts toward my wife, I’ll flay that soft skin from your hide!”

“I’m so flattered!” Nekea rolled her eyes and thought he sounded quite pathetic. “Calm down, will you?”

Gul Russol turned away and left. Dreth side-stepped away from the Bajoran. Nekea sat on the sofa and beckoned.

“What shall we call you?” she asked.

“Kylie,” the Bajoran’s voice was barely audible.

Dreth mocked him, “That sounds like a woman’s name!”

“It’s a surname.”

“My wife asked for your full name and not just your savage clan name!”

“Dreth,” Nekea couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore. “You are giving me a headache! Go lie down in the bedroom! Go to the Promenade for games and entertainment. I know how much you love those activities! Do anything else!”

“And leave you alone with this creature?”

“What bothers you more, Dreth, that I would be alone with a male or that I am left alone with a Bajoran?”

“This thing is both!” he replied. 

“Do you not trust me?” she fixed him with a challenging stare.

Dreth was clearly weighing his options. As her eyes narrowed, he must have remembered his passive aggressive jealousy last night and the fact that he had basically accused her of wanting to be unfaithful without actually having the courage to say it. If he had been dumb enough to declare mistrust in Nekea, she would have marched straight back into Dukat’s office to ask the Prefect if he was serious about granting her a divorce. 

Finally, Dreth grumbled and left the quarters, granting the Cardassian woman and the Bajoran man peace. They studied one another in silence for a long while. She was waiting for him to insult her or attack her. She half expected it. She wondered if Gul Russol, who no doubt was watching, would do anything to prevent her murder. Would her husband grieve her or be relieved that he was finally free and would reap the benefits of sympathy for being a widower? 

“What is your name for real?” she asked her guest when she decided he wasn’t going to assault her.

He sighed, “We don’t use first names with strangers.”

“I am Nekea Rajo,” she smiled warmly at him. “I will call you Kylie until we are no longer strangers.”

He was confused, “Which name is which?”

“Nekea is my first name and it is what I prefer to be called.”

“You give it away so easily?”

“All the Cardassians you’ve ever known were military, Kylie,” she explained. “I am a simple student and wife. Have you even seen a female soldier of my kind?”

“Sort of. They were hidden in that armor that you all wear like exoskeletons on black scarabs of death.”

She gazed down at her clothing. She was wearing a green blouse that resembled crepe with front button loop closures and flounce hems. There were beautiful geometric designs along the front and back of it. She wore a long black skirt, rather common and plain. She supposed her people were obsessed with the color black. The Bajoran must have never seen a Cardassian in civilian clothes either.

She left her feet bare so that he could see they were not monstrous. Like her hands, they were small in proportion to the rest of her body. Even though her legs were long and her bust was generous, her hands and feet were usually the smallest in any given room. She met children that had larger hands. She preferred to keep her nails on both extremities short and she was a paler pallor of gray than the common Cardassian.

The Bajoran wore a plain brown tunic and pleated skirt beneath made of plant fibers from Bajor stained and deteriorating with age and overuse. The pleats were intricate with both horizontal and vertical designs. She marveled that it looked as though someone had made it by hand. She was no connoisseur of fashion, but she thought it sad his tunic was quite plain. She heard their men sometimes wore jewelry and her eyes darted to his ears, looking for the infamous Bajoran earring his people were rumored to wear at all times. It was curtained away from her view by his gold mane and that frustrated her.

He was also bare footed, and his feet were badly blistered, cut, and stained almost black from the soot of the mines. His calves were terribly thin. She had a sinking feeling if he took his tunic off, he would be emaciated. She thought of Dukat’s promise to increase rations and wished it was true for this man’s sake alone.

“I haven’t eaten,” she told him. “You must be hungry. You are my temporary doctor. I must follow the diet that you recommend. Replicate it and we can share.”

At the mention of food, his eyes reacted but he sighed again and clarified, “I am no doctor. I am a medicine man.”

“What is the difference?” she cocked her head slightly to one side.

“I have no formal medical or scientific training. I learned from the local medicine woman of my village the ancient folk remedies and medicine chants. I heal with touch, intuition, and with prayer. I never guarantee the body will mend. That is the work of a real doctor. Medicine men and women are called upon to heal the spirit.”

Now she was confused, “Aren’t your spiritual leaders called Vedeks? Medicine men sound suspiciously like that sort.”

“My village was a small place that had no Vedek representing us or monasteries. We relied upon our medicine folk for spirituality a long time.”

She was learning a great deal already but she wondered how she was going to get any real treatment. Her wrist kept bleeding from time to time. She really did have a headache, and her body was aching all over. She longed for her family doctor back on Cardassia.

“Food first,” she rubbed her temples at the sides of her head. “I am hungry.”

“What did you do to your wrist?” he decided to address that first and his nose ridges flared. “I could smell the blood from outside.”

She flushed and looked away, trying to hide the bandaged wrist. The self-proclaimed medicine man stretched out his hand for her to place her wrist there. Then he saw his own filthy hands and washed and sanitized them first. He extended his invitation again.

She hesitated and then took the plunge.

She gasped, feeling his warm blood through the bandages. It warmed more than her skin and scales. She heard exaggerated tales of such hot blood. They weren’t exaggerations!

“Did your mate do this to you?” The Bajoran’s voice trembled for her when he unwrapped and studied the wound. “These are teeth marks that go deep! You could have severed the artery and bled to death!”

“My husband has never been abusive!” she got incredibly defensive. “Do not throw such serious accusations around lightly!”

“I am sorry. If he didn’t do this, then who are what is responsible for it?”

“It was self-inflicted,” she found speaking those words immensely difficult and felt so defeated and helpless.

Jade eyes widened in surprise, “But why would anyone do such a thing to themselves?” 

“I can’t discuss this matter with my friends or my family or even my husband,” she pinched her eyes closed tightly. “Why would I want to discuss it with you?”

“We are strangers. Enemies even. But enemies don’t give their food and cloak away and risk vile repercussions for their compassion, do they?”

“You know about that?” she snapped her eyes open and matched his gaze.

“Word of mouth travels much faster than you tech-obsessed spoon heads would remember.”

“Spoon heads?” she wasn’t sure if she should be offended or if she should laugh at that silly slur.

“What is that blue coloration in your ‘spoon’ anyway?” he pointed at her blue henna.

“It’s to signify that I am a married woman,” she explained and rubbed at it to show him that the pigment came off on her fingers. “Where’s your earring?”

He scowled, “Why so your husband can hoard that in his quarters of stolen goods too? How could a woman that gives possibly be married to the same monster that takes from us?”

She opened and closed her mouth, trying to explain. She desperately wanted to defend her husband. She had been making excuses for him for years but this sort of thing was inexcusable and she knew it. She realized she must look like an asphyxiating frog or fish and closed her mouth. Her eyes were full of shame. 

Kylie was astonished by the Cardassian. Everything about her was astonishing including her looks, her mannerisms, and her speech and behavioral patterns. It was such a contrast to what he was used to. All of her kind seemed nothing but cruel and underhanded creatures. He knew some things might be lost in the translation of the language implants the aliens used, but things like body language, eye movement, and tone couldn’t be so easily misconstrued. Or could it?

He knew better than to trust this woman yet. Gul Russol was right about one thing: He wished to stay out of the mines as long as he could. He was doomed to die in there. He went to the replicator and became uncertain.

“These machines couldn’t possibly have Bajoran recipes?”

“No, but it can produce raw organic and inorganic material, I think,” she called to him over her shoulder.

“Besides the bleeding, what other symptoms do you have?”

“Aching.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

“You look fatigued and depressed as well. I think I know what to do.”

She was slightly angry he assumed the last two things but didn’t argue. He replicated a native Bajoran plant and began to smash it up in a bowl. He added boiling water and made gestures as he chanted in his tongue, a dialect the computer needed time to translate. He also began to burn a sage-like bushel mixed with sandalwood to sweeten and purify the air. It was already helping to cure her headache. 

She became fascinated once more. Medical doctors used a scanning device, prattled at her in medical jargon, and then they usually sent her away with capsules and a sore arm from an immediate injection. They did not engage in such elaborate and beautiful rituals with sweet smells and beautiful songs. It suddenly didn’t matter that she couldn’t understand the words.

“May I?” he pointed to her arm.

“Will it sting?”

“I thought you vipers felt no pain.”

She could tell he instantly regretted using that slur. So far he had used several against her and she had not used a derogatory term toward him a single time. He was not being fair, but she understood. What were a few racial insults compared to beatings, starvation, and enslavement? If he had the choice, Kylie would not be here treating his sworn enemy. Instead of seeking verbal revenge or otherwise, she chuckled.

“I’m such a baby when it comes to pain tolerance.”

“This will be soothing.”

“Proceed.”

He took her wrist and began rubbing the green and brown substance he had made into her skin. His was like polished and smooth marble compared to her coarse and scaly skin. She soaked up the warmth radiating from him like a sponge. The smells, his voice, his touch, it was all doing something to her, but it wasn’t bad. Her body was relaxing, releasing endorphins and much missed chemicals like dopamine and serotonin. She moaned and closed her eyes and felt as though she could drift to sleep.  
But she could not! She jerked herself back to reality. It was just not in a Cardassian’s nature to be so trusting and careless. This medicine man was an alien and a stranger. He soothed her and went to fetch real food this time. He placed the bowl onto the coffee table before her and it smelled delicious. He had manipulated the replicator again to add Bajoran ingredients.

“What is it?”

“Fungus in a simple broth with beans and rice from my home.”

“You must partake first.”

“I don’t recommend that.”

“Why? Are you trying to poison me?”

“That would be incredibly stupid. I am warning you that if I take a sip, I will consume the entire bowl.”

“Replicators have very few limits, Kylie,” she smiled again. “Eat whatever you want. Eat as much as you want.”

With that said, he began to gulp the soup as greedily as the Bajoran child. His slurping sounds were satisfying because she knew he must have been starving. He brought her a new bowl and refilled his own. Then he finished a third bowl by the time she was half done with hers. She loved mushrooms, and the Bajoran mushrooms in the soup were plump and meaty for a fungus. Any vegetarian would be fulfilled, which she was not. She was not a picky eater by any means. Why did if feel like she hadn’t eaten anything so good for so long?

She got up to get a second bowl and complained, “Although the herbs you’re burning smell wonderful, you smell terrible.”

He stopped slurping and grunted in agreement.

“Would you like to use the shower?”

He acted as though the prospect was inconceivable. She was offering him a shower? With real water and soap and all those other good things? He had never expected such kindness from a viper! This viper was married to a particularly stupid and cruel viper! But he wanted that shower.

“Yes,” he said before he could say no.

“Then here.”

She replicated a soft, fluffy towel and pointed in the direction of the shower and tub. He smiled for the first time. She couldn’t help but smile back.

As he began to undress, he didn’t realize he had forgotten to completely shut the bathroom door. Nekea couldn’t help but notice. She tried to avert her eyes, but something forced her to look. It was her curiosity and a carnal hunger. She could make out his naked form from behind. 

He was soft and had surprisingly little hair. Cardassians joked that Bajorans were descended from apes and looked soft and smooth but their men especially must be hiding pelts of fur. She wanted to touch that skin and feel his warmth. She wanted to explore him with the careful eye of a scientist but with the care of a mother with a newborn child. She couldn’t help but compare him a bit to her husband and thought disparagingly: My husband has no hair below his head, but his scales are coarse and rough from his pelvis down to his toes. Fortunately for Dreth, she was a woman that focused on torsos and faces and usually ignored anything below the belt. She tried her best not to be shallow either.

She began to see the ugly parts of Kylie’s body, but it was not ugly by nature. The ugly parts had been created by her fellow Cardassians. She saw that he was as emaciated as she imagined and almost sobbed aloud for him. She was also horrified that he had ugly scars littered upon his back. Who had done that to him? She wanted to tear the Cardassian overseer that had ruined such beautiful skin to pieces and she was not a violent woman. She wanted to brush out the tangles in his golden mane and hold him and tell him she was so very sorry. She wanted to make things right.

She knew she couldn’t. She knew this man would never believe she could possibly be sorry. She was a monster. She was one of the oppressors on this station and invaders of his planet. He couldn’t be friends with her or anything but a stranger. She didn’t expect to ever learn Kylie’s real name. She didn’t deserve to know. She probably never would.


	6. The Promenade

After taking a nap and experiencing the best uninterrupted sleep she had slept in the longest time, Nekea realized she had slept through lunch time and most of the evening. Her husband was nowhere to be found and Kylie had decided to let her sleep and kept to himself within separate rooms listening carefully in case she needed anything. 

“How do you feel?” he asked.

“So much better. Can a chant really work better than an injection of chemicals?”

He shrugged, “Whatever I did soothed you to sleep and sometimes sleep is the absolute best thing for the mind and the body. If the mind is at odds with the body and vice versa, that always leads to some sort of illness or imbalance.”

“Did you eat?”

“I did.”

“Did you eat enough?”

“I’ve been eating too much. The fool medicine man gave himself a stomach ache eating so fast,” the Bajoran made fun of himself.

“You smell so much better, but what about your clothes?”

“I have no spares. You will have to suffer the ungodly sight.”

“You can use the replicator to make another.”

“Really?” he knitted his gold-brown eyebrows. “These machines really are miraculous!”

He replicated and disappeared to change into the new, clean clothes. The original tunic had many splashes of color before it faded away. He looked so much more comfortable and he had replicated a pair of sandals for his feet as well. 

“You look almost like a different man!” Nekea exclaimed. “Just wait until I fatten you up!”

“You mean like a husbandry animal?”

Her smile vanished and her whole body drooped. The Bajoran apologized with his eyes. So far this woman had shown him kindness and he should at least pretend to be grateful and not vindictive.

“Your husband never returned. Is he ever going to return?” he asked nervously.

“Good question. I will try to find him and join him for dinner perhaps. Remember, you are free to eat whatever you like but don’t hurt yourself!”

She swapped her skirt for black trousers since she no longer felt warm and cozy under blankets. She would be very glad of that decision within the hour. She wandered the Promenade looking for her husband. Cardassians preferred dim and warm climates, but she felt that the station on Terok Nor was dreary even in the recreational and living areas. She didn’t go near the fence again, mostly because of the consequences of breaking her agreement, but because she didn’t want more nightmares. 

There were shops selling what she suspected was more stolen goods from the Bajorans and manned by Ferengi since they had less of a moral compass than other species. Several privileged Bajorans were allowed to set up shops as well. She made a note to ask Kylie about why that was. A man named Vaatrik had set up a chemist shop, for example. He tried to sell her some potions, but she informed him with a polite smile that she had employed a medicine man. He merely looked confused by that.

She was growing frustrated with her search when Gul Russol slipped at her side and spoke low enough that their conversation shouldn’t be picked up except by the most sophisticated equipment. He knew exactly where said equipment was so he also led her in the opposite direction of them.

“You are doing very well so far with your charge,” he praised her.

“You are also very good at acting like a typical ass,” she responded boldly. “I don’t treat Kylie decently to simply manipulate him like you. Are all Guls and Legates sociopaths?”

He laughed at her comment, thank the stars! She wasn’t entirely sure she had let that slip!

“Guls are expected to be abrasive and especially at my age.”

“Appearing friendly ruins your reputation?”

“Acting like I barely tolerate your existence is safer for you.”

“What exactly are you expecting me to wheedle from that poor Bajoran man?” she asked. “Why did you pick him?”

“I want recordings of the atrocities being committed. Get him to drop names. Also, it’s not as if I chose him. I asked for Bajorans with any sort of medical background willing to treat a Cardassian woman. There were very few volunteers even with the promise of temporary removal from the mines. Either none of them had medical experience or they detest us so much they wouldn’t consider helping an individual Cardassian no matter the circumstances.”

“Was he the only volunteer?”

“Pretty much.”

“Did he tell you he wasn’t really a doctor?”

“I wouldn’t have cared.”

“Well then why not choose the other man or woman?”

“Bajoran women don’t last in the mines, trust me, for reasons you really don’t want to hear. That Bajoran was probably the closest to death and we both knew it. He was the smallest and weakest of the men in there.”

“Are you telling me that the workers die in there?” Nekea stopped walking.

“Ask your Bajoran. You are looking for Glinn Rajo, I assume?”

“Yes.”

“Go to Quark’s bar. Your husband spends more time in there than most soldiers.”

“He does?” she was surprised. “But my Dreth hated the taste of any kind of alcohol when we were going to school! He drank to be more sociable not because he enjoyed it!”

Gul Russol looked at her as though she was the most naïve and precious thing he had ever seen, “My dear, are you aware of the rampant alcohol addiction in the military along with other terrible vices?”

“The military has frequent drug testing and requirements-“

“Which nearly all the men are breaking and every officer knows it. If we expunged each individual soldier for the infraction of drinking, there would absolutely be no men left within our military. The military life is hard, always getting harder, and most men are frankly not made for it. Prefect Dukat has more relaxed standards than others and we officers are aware which soldiers are good for promoting and which are good for sacrificing in battle.”

Nekea felt as though Gul Russol had struck her in the gut. This was a hard truth to swallow. Serving Cardassia was supposed to be among the highest callings of her society. Soldiers were thought of as heroes and patriots. So many resources went toward it. The military provided jobs, colonized planets, defended their empire and expanded it. To hear Gul Russol speak so critically of it and the soldiers was like blasphemy!

“You said my husband has become a heavy drinker?”

He nodded, “He has become a laughing stock on this station. I keep telling you to investigate his sleeping quarters. You keep avoiding it.”

“From the sounds of it, I will find bottles of kanar strewn everywhere.”

“It’s your choice to keep avoiding the truth about your husband. That is your personal matter.”

“And what is your personal stake in all this?” she shot back. “Do you expect me to believe you care about the Bajorans?”

“I want to take the mastermind behind all this down.”

“You mean the Prefect?”

He made extra sure there were no witnesses or devices and answered, “That man had my sister-in-law hanged. She was Dr. Lenora Rica. I want revenge and I want this Occupation to end. Cardassia gets no benefit from it and hasn’t been reaping any sort of tangible reward for years now. The soldiers are spread too thin. Even Central Command is starting to agree with the Dissidents on this!”

“I am only a civilian woman!” Nekea tried to remind him. “You really should find someone else for this job. I signed a nondisclosure agreement.”

“Civilians have always been a wild card, you know that? Just because they have no training doesn’t mean they aren’t capable or great acts of cowardice or bravery.”

“I’m not brave! You claim I’m suicidal. That makes me a coward! I am not afraid of death. It is the interrogation I am terrified of. I will spill every secret. I would babble nonsense and break down before any real pain began.”

“You have no secrets. Any torturer would see that.”

“They wouldn’t care! They’d torture me anyway!”

“Not if they are Obsidian trained.”

“I never want to test that!”

“Oh, look, Quark’s bar,” Gul Russol said casually. 

“Thanks for escorting me,” she said a little irritated.

When she sat at the bar, the Ferengi of the bar’s name approached her with his pointy and yellowed grin, “What can I get you? It’s not often I get Cardi girls in here. I saw you talking to Gul Russol. Are you a student of Natima?”

“No. I’m looking for my husband Glinn Rajo.”

“Oh, I know him,” Quark nodded his head a bit too enthusiastically.

“How do you know Natima?”

“She’s my girlfriend!”Quark boasted. “Well, at least she was until she broke my heart into a million pieces. I do miss that woman. Would you like to break my heart next? They say Cardassian women are cold and frigid. I know better! They can be the most passionate creatures in the galaxy!”

She pointed out the blue henna on her head.

“Oh, anything can happen with a healthy amount of drink and conversation! Speaking of which, what drink would you like? Would you like a Sumerian Sunset?”

She glared at him, “I just told you I’m married, I showed you the mark to prove it, and you are still trying to hit on me?”

“The man doesn’t own you, does he? Cardassians don’t own their women like we do. You should take advantage of that!”

She was aghast but before she could give this Ferengi an earful, her husband came down from the holosuites with a group of soldiers. She waved him over. He waved back and sat next to her. He smelled of kanar but she must have caught him before serious drinking. To her dismay, his comrades crowded around them as well.

“Ah, so this is your wife, Rajo?” one of them leered at her far worse than the Ferengi dared. “She’s got a nice rack!”

“Excuse me?” she flushed.

“Nice hair too,” another played with a strand. “May I have a string as a souvenir?”

“Dreth…” she said his name under her breath.

“Her hair is nice, but I wish there was a bit of red in it!” her loving husband said to his fellow soldiers.

“Dreth!”

“Can we teach her some CQC?”

“That would be hilarious!” Dreth laughed out loud.

“CQC?” she panicked. “You mean close quarters combat?”

Before her husband could confirm, the nearest soldier tossed her over his arm like a rag doll. She let out a cry. Then she was practically slammed to the ground and another soldier pulled her up to place her in a head lock. She struggled and kept trying to tell the men to knock it off. She had absolutely no training and she wasn’t in the proper attire for horseplay. They were ignoring her. 

More than one groped her breasts as they placed her in the most invasive maneuvers possible and her husband looked on laughing as though it was all sport. At one point, a soldier held her upside down. If she had still been wearing her skirt, she would have been mortified. Her blouse was threatening to slip off. If she hadn’t been wearing a tightly clinging undergarment, she would have been exposed to the Ferengi, the soldiers, and all the bar patrons.

“Stop it! Stop it! Dreth! Make them stop! Dreth!” she was screaming by now.

“Odo!” she heard Quark cry.

She heard a raspy growl and the men around her scattered like frightened geckos. She was in tears, pulling her clothes tighter to her even though she hadn’t truly been exposed. The men had been rough and careless. She looked up at her rescuer and was disappointed it was not Dreth. It was the Changeling. So the creature’s name was Odo?

He was offering her his hand, scowling, but not because of her. She took his hand and he helped her to her feet. Then Odo rounded on the men. Quark had shut the bar doors so they couldn’t flee the scene.

“This is a Cardassian woman and married!” Odo snarled at them. “She is not a comfort woman and she has rights! Even the comfort women have some rights under Prefect Dukat’s regulations! It is my job to help enforce them! He does not take assault or harassment lightly, I promise you!”

“I’m her husband,” Dreth said as though it settled the matter.

“Do you wish to press charges against these men?”

“Press charges? Nekea, you aren’t injured. Your clothes aren’t torn. These men were just playing around.”

“Playing around?” she said incredulously. “Playing around?”

“Do you wish to press charges?” Odo looked at her.

“Yes!” she hissed.

“Nekea, please don’t do that!” her husband begged as the men around them began to protest and deny any sort of wrong doing. “The men weren’t trying anything devious. They just wanted to teach you some moves to defend yourself. You didn’t even try! You just got frazzled! That proves you are too sensitive and need to learn CQC.”

“How can I learn when I’m being invaded and not instructed?” she said wildly.

“I’m taking them in!” Odo announced.

“Thank you, Odo,” Quark said. “But first, make them pay for their drinks! Last time half of them ditched without paying me!”

“Pay the filthy troll!” 

The men cursed and threatened all sorts of terrible things for both the Changeling and the woman that they blamed most. Odo threatened to charge them with additional crimes and advised them to quiet their mouths and drink less. He promised them Dukat would wipe their accounts clean for their behavior.

Nekea waited until they were gone before hissing at her husband, “How could you have stood by and laughed while they did that?”

“I told you they didn’t hurt you. Now they are going to tell me my wife is a prude and a shrew. They are going to demand I compensate them.”

“Why do you only care about yourself, Dreth?” she shouted.

“Why do you act like you’ve been molested? Is that why you never speak of your father? Did he touch you when you were a child and you never told me?”

“Oh, yikes!” Quark sank behind his bar.

“What did you just say to me?” Nekea stammered. “Did I just hear you say something completely off color and utterly wrong?”

“No. I said what I said.”

“First of all,” she took a deep breath, “what does that even mean? Second, I have never been molested and my father would never do such a thing! Third, why would you say such a thing? I wish he were here to knock some sense into you! ”

“Would he care? You are being melodramatic. The soldiers barely touched you and if they did it was an accident.”

“I was going to ask you to dinner, but not any longer! I’ll be in my quarters! You’re terrified I’ll have an affair with a Gul or a Bajoran, but you’ll laugh when your friends harass me before your very eyes? Sometimes I think the man I married is dead and you are an imposter!”

“Nekea-“

“Don’t come home tonight! I’ll throw you out, I swear it!”


	7. Gods and Poetry

For three glorious days, Dreth Rajo didn’t dare come near his wife and Nekea Rajo snubbed his messages and pathetic apologies. She enjoyed the amenities of Gul Russol’s quarters and enjoyed her Bajoran’s company. It was like a much needed vacation. It was time to let Dreth have a taste of his own medicine. Let him understand what it was like to have a cold spouse. She was curious how long it would take for him to beg forgiveness and for contact again. She was half tempted to file for divorce, but she was curious to follow through with her experiment.

Dukat sent her an amiable message apologizing for the behavior of the soldiers at the bar. He reassured her that he didn’t approve of such immaturity and disgusting entitlement in his men. He had fined them heavily and told her he hoped this was an isolated case. She responded by asking him what in the world was the’ comfort system’ Odo had mentioned and there was uncharacteristic silence from the man always more than happy to talk.

She supposed the Prefect of Bajor was very busy with the nightmare PR she had inadvertently caused. Gul Russol sent her a message that her recording device had picked up the incident and was already being shared back on Cardassia Prime and not just causing tongues to wag on the Promenade of Terok Nor. Abuse against Bajoran women was one thing, but against a lawfully married Cardassian woman? The shame! He congratulated her on being unlucky or unfortunate enough to attract these types. It was certainly helping his case already.

She shared meals with Kylie but didn’t press him with questions too soon. Instead of treating him like a slave or servant, she treated him like a roommate like she did with roommates she and Dreth shared at the university. She had some work to make up for in some of her classes, professors to exchange information with, friends and family to update. She kept to her nondisclosure agreement publicly and kept Dreth’s behavior from his family. She couldn’t bad mouth their son. They wouldn’t want to know and could do nothing to correct his behavior. He was an adult and if she couldn’t inspire her husband to be a good man, she was becoming convinced no one could.

Kylie kept the quarters clean, meditated, and he went on errands Nekea sent him on so people wouldn’t suspect she was being kind to her Bajoran. When he was out fetching some larger items they could only get from the replimat, Nekea decided to conduct another sort of experiment. 

She wondered what was the power that kanar seemed to have over Cardassian men? What was the appeal of being drunk? She was a social drinker only. Her father had been an alcoholic and workaholic, but he was never a violent drunk or so addicted it ever truly affected his work life, though she would argue it did affect his personal life. She grew up feeling like her father was a stranger to her and her mother was masking resentment and pain for her partner that Nekea had felt even as a small child. There was a reason she loved her father-in-law so much more.

She replicated a bottle of kanar and had to force herself to keep sampling from it. It tasted so disgusting! She was making a comical face of revulsion when Kylie returned and laughed at her.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Trying to get drunk.”

“Perhaps you should try something far more palatable? I brought spring wine.”

“What’s that?”

“The preferred drink of my people. It’s like us: Stronger and sweeter than it looks.”

She decided to chance it and took a careful sip. It was sweet, clear, and it was even a bit bubbly. She loved the stuff! She began to drink it with less concern.

“Slow down!” Kylie almost took the bottle from her. “Savor it! If you are not a habitual drinker, something this mild that fast will make you lose your senses.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be the point? Don’t people want to get senseless as quick as possible?”

“Why do you want to get drunk? And where is your husband? Are you sure you’re a married woman? You haven’t been applying that blue henna either.”

“Why should I? It doesn’t protect me from the soldiers and my husband isn’t here to appreciate it. That Ferengi in the bar might have been trying to talk the pants off me, but I get the feeling he would have never dreamed of putting his hands on me like those men did. Is it something the drink does to men or is it something innate in male soldiers that causing them to behave like that?”

Kylie looked uncomfortable, “I wouldn’t know, Nekea. I am not Cardassian and I am no soldier. Bajor had nothing resembling your military. We were a peaceful people that saw no reason for it. We colonized planets that were unoccupied. We made no enemies. We focused upon arts, cultivation, family, and our Prophets.”

“It sounds like a fantastical society,” Nekea said dreamily as she drank. “Could you speak some Bajoran to me again? Could you teach me the language?”

“Why?”

“It’s a beautiful language and I want to converse with you in your language, not with translators. If I teach you my language, I would be breaking the law.”

The Bajoran hesitated and said, “Maybe. Perhaps I will tell you what the medicine songs are. Learning an alien language takes more time than you have on this station.”

“Oh yes,” she was struck with sadness. “I do have a couple weeks left.”

She kept drinking as she began to check her messages again. When she returned to the living area, she discovered that Kylie had discovered her poems and was trying to use the computer to interpret them. She was getting tipsy by now. She had finished half the bottle of spring wine.

“Oh ho!” she said gleefully. “Look at the sneaky snake!”

Kylie blushed crimson and she was reminded how much she wanted to touch that soft, hot skin, “I apologize. I was curious. I can’t read Cardassian glyphs, but these look like poems?”

“They are.”

“They look like your handwriting. I didn’t know Cardassians did anything remotely creative!”

She sighed, “We can and do. In our past, we were far more creative and even spiritual!”

“Spiritual?” he said doubtfully.

“Yes. Come here. Let me show you something.”

He was intrigued because her voice sank to a whisper. Nekea remembered her recording device and decided this particular bit would be very revealing to the Dissidents watching. It would be up to them whether they shared it or not. She knew if she exchanged a great secret with this man, maybe, just maybe, he would trust her enough to grant her the privilege of his first name. For some reason, that was the thing she wanted to know most.

She retrieved the artifact she had stolen for herself and kept hidden for years now. It was a small figurine made of bone. It was a man and she knew that because it was a naked man complete with genitalia. Her guess was that it was an old deity or hero of forgotten Cardassian myth. But the most extraordinary thing was that it had distinct Bajoran ridges. What else could it possibly be? Kylie gasped aloud when he saw it.

“That looks like Groob, one of the pair of Lovers! They are Prophets!” he stated.

“What makes you say that?” she was terribly excited by what he said. “And what is the name of his other half? Please tell me more!”

“Groob and Ona are the pair of Lovers in the folktales handed down in my village,” he explained as she let him caress the figurine. “Groob is often representative of the sky and Ona is the personification of the earth. They share a great love affair but have to be separated often because so many bitter people are jealous of their love. They always find each other eventually. I can tell it must be Groob or akin to him because I have seen figurines like this many times. Where did you get this?”

“I found it on a dig within my own province,” she told him. “I study anthropology and archaeology and I often get saddled with the tedious labor of digging and sorting through the dirt and fragments. If my entire career, if you can call it that, I had only found shattered pottery. I heard rumors that artifacts eerily similar to Bajoran ones had been found in the Kelan Province. Our professors were quick to dismiss the rumors. This dig I was privileged enough to be a part of must have been another site proving that there was contact between Bajorans and Cardassians during our stone age.”

Kylie sputtered, he was so astonished, “How could such a thing be covered up? I’m inclined to believe you, Nekea. Those are Bajoran ridges. They are horizontal and there are exactly the amount of lines and In the exact place that they should be. Cardassians have no ridges on their nose like that! It’s distinctive of our species! Why would a Cardassian artist carve a Bajoran deity into bone during your stone age if he had never seen such a creature?”

“I thought so too. I wasn’t the only person that found something. I never got to see what else was found. The expert in charge was quick to declare the site was ancient but the artifiacts must have been planted or it was far too soon to make a call on something like that. Archaeology is a science and wild speculation ruins the careers of such men and women. They ordered us to cover up the site with sand. When I protested, I was threatened with expulsion from my university and mocked. They promised we would return to the site the next digging season. Reburying it would protect whatever else we could possibly find.”

“Did you ever return?”

“Of course not! We also avoided the Kelan province on purpose. I found this wonderful little man myself and something in me stirred, Kylie. I don’t know how to explain it, but I pocketed him and I didn’t tell a single person what I had done. I knew if I revealed him, he’d be buried or smashed. I couldn’t allow that. It was the most exciting thing I had ever found. I discovered it. Do you know what that is like? Do you know the feeling of finding something that must have been sacred to someone that is long dead?” 

Kylie admired her as she continued to talk passionately and she was caressing Groob lovingly. Her eyes were so bright; her lips curled in a smile, her entire face seemed to glow. She was a Cardassian that was attracted to his culture, their shared culture. He began to see her features in a brand new light as well. Her eyes were almost brown. Her hair was exotic to Cardassians. Her skin wasn’t as scaled and it was pale. She wrote poetry instead of drawing triangles and writing out formulas. She was more Bajoran than she knew, perhaps. 

She was also quite cute when drunk. Her shyness was gone. She was getting giggly and animated. In his culture, Bajorans knew not to trust a man or woman until they were observed when drunk. They knew that spirits possessed them and that the real essence of a person was revealed when their inhibitions were gone. A violent man suppressed his violence until he was drunk. A woman might act reclusive until she was drunk and then became a social butterfly. A man that was normally tight lipped might suddenly become the most charismatic in the room. A woman that was never seen crying would weep with wild abandon. It was like releasing a genie in a bottle.

He took her wrist and she didn’t mind. He unwrapped her bandages from that morning and declared the wound healed. Then he began to stroke her inner arm, her fingers, and then her face. She relished every moment of it! They began to cuddle contentedly on the sofa. Neither of them were uncomfortable.

“The Lovers are drawn to people that have a loving and selfless nature themselves, did you know that, Nekea?” he clasped her the way he would a precious child. “Groob must have desperately wanted to be reunited with his Ona. He sensed you wouldn’t harm him. He knew you would appreciate him. He was right. He wanted you to find him, I think.”

“That’s beautiful and sentimental, but that’s wishful thinking,” she said. “I wanted to get more drunk!”

“You’ve had enough, I think,” Kylie laughed at her. “You look half asleep!”

“That’s because you are so warm and feel so good.”

The drink had robbed her of any tact she had and she had little enough to begin with. 

“Tell me the truth, Nekea,” Kylie became serious. “Since you are drunk, you aren’t likely to lie. Did your husband drive you to wound yourself?”

She sighed and finally admitted, “Yes.”

“A man that drives a woman to that doesn’t deserve her.”

She nuzzled him and wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his chest. Who knew she was so clingy and touchy feely when drunk? This was a gentle and kind man. She loved his smooth skin and hot blood. She liked feeling the contrast of smooth skin and then patchy fur on his face. She hadn’t felt so content in anyone’s arms. 

“I like you, Kylie.”

“You can call me Jonas.”

“Jonas?” 

She touched his lips but she didn’t kiss him. That would be too much. This man couldn’t possibly want that. He should be pushing her away. She was so used to being pushed away. She was enjoying the cuddles anyway. She didn’t want anything more in the moment. She couldn’t remember the last time her husband had cuddled with her like this. No one had. She had been held, but there was something in the Bajoran’s blood transferred through his skin she felt from no other.

“Read me your poems,” he said.

“Promise not to laugh.”

He held out his hand and made a Bajoran gesture, “I promise.”

As she began to read, he squeezed her ear and she was startled, “What in the name of Cardassia was that?”

“I wanted to know if I could sense a pagh in there. It’s a Bajoran religious custom.” 

“What is a pagh?”

“I will tell you later. Keep reading me your poems. They are very good, you know?”

She scoffed, “My husband reads them sometimes because they are short. Anything longer than a single page and he claims he can’t be bothered to read them. His father told me Cardassian poetry is supposed to be concise and there are so many stupid rules! There must be an exact number of syllables and stanzas. Rhymes are for children. Feelings are fleeting. Descriptions are dry. I purposely break all those rules. These poems are for me. Why does anyone else care?”

“They might be popular. On Bajor. Please continue.”

“If you say so, Jonas.”


	8. Gaslighting

Nekea knew she would have to speak to her husband eventually. His mother had called her begging her to give him another chance. His father had encouraged her as well. Even Dreth’s siblings, all nearly a decade spread apart in age of each other, weighed in on the call. Her mother told her to follow her heart and there was silence from her father.

Jonas tried to keep out of sight. He knew the husband bore no love for him and the resentment was mutual. He pretended to do menial work when he was forced within his presence. Dreth rolled his eyes as soon as he spotted the Bajoran. Nekea was scrawling her poems, nervous and trying to conceal it poorly.

“Is it really necessary to keep him here any longer?” he said carelessly. 

“Don’t talk about him like he isn’t here,” she replied.

“We’re talking in our native tongue.”

“The translators are at work!”

“Then let me just turn them off.”

“Don’t do that!”

“I don’t want him listening in on our conversations! Have you been conversing with him or around him with translators on? Do you know what sort of security breach that could be!”

“It is such a pain turning the devices on and off. His presence within our quarters is still necessary. What if I am ill again or have an accident? I still have more than a week here. I’ve caused the staff and soldiers here enough trouble, haven’t I? Are your friends harassing you for money or are they starting to harass you the way they did me? With your permission practically?” she said with spite.

“Let’s not fight in front of the Bajoran.”

Jonas understood that was his cue to shut himself within another room. He refused to look Dreth in the eye. 

“You made him clean up quite a bit,” Dreth said with dry delight. “He looks like a well groomed and dressed pet. You’ve probably been over feeding him. Gul Russol may resent the use of his replicator going toward a Bajoran. It’s not just my fellow soldiers that are upset with me, by the way. The Prefect warned me that I am on thin ice.”

“I’m terribly sorry,” she said mechanically. 

“Well, Nekea, what do you expect me to do about it?”

“Why are you always asking me that question about everything? Like I’m somehow supposed to know the answers?” she tossed her writing utensil down in frustration.

“I have always valued your counsel.”

“No you haven’t.” 

“Nekea, I love you.”

“That’s a lie, isn’t it?”

“What have I done to make you think I would lie about that? If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be here trying to provide for us. If I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t have married you. If I didn’t love you, I would be gone.”

She was fighting tears. She didn’t know how to cope with his tactics: The backpedaling, the constant promises, the list of excuses and justifications. She felt like they had this argument over and over with slightly differing circumstances and phrasing flung back and forth. The problem was she cared too much about others and not herself.

“We haven’t made love since you got here,” he said abruptly. “I miss you.”

She felt her stomach was harboring a living eel, “What? You want to make love now?”

“Yes, why not?”

“You haven’t proven to me that you care let alone are worthy of my bed right now!”

“I think it’s what we need. It’s been far too long. I know I’ve been neglecting you.”

“Did you see a doctor about your issues?” she demanded.

“I don’t need a doctor. I told you there is no medical issue. I am young and healthy. The proper chemistry is all there. Let’s go to bed.”

“If there’s no medical issue, then what has it been, Dreth?”

“I told you I have been under stress. Our financial troubles-“

“Your financial troubles!” she didn’t let him get away with that. “We kept separate accounts on purpose. “I have been paying for my schooling and my own rent and utilities. My mother helped me keep the proof of it. You are the one that took out high interest loans and spent your spare allowances on insipid things. Don’t try to blame me for any of that!”

“We are married. If you had financial troubles, I would call them mine.”

She sighed and he inched toward her. She could already feel those two people battling wills within her. She couldn’t tell if her nerves were from anxiety or excitement. It had been too long since they were intimate. She couldn’t quite remember the last time it had been. She probably did want this and need this far more than him, but she had been so determined that she should deny him and let him see how the pain of rejection felt.

She just didn’t have the strength or the heart. She let him kiss her and lead her into the bedroom. His skin wasn’t hot or smooth but it was familiar. She thought to herself she would have preferred they showered first. The armor of a soldier was heavy and could cause smells that weren’t exactly pleasant. 

She lay down on the bed and he began to paw at her clumsily as he usually did. Their ritual rarely deviated in any way, shape, or form. Whenever she tried to make him slow down, he whined. When she wanted to kiss him longer and deeper, he complained he hated open mouth kissing. He wanted what he wanted when he wanted. He didn’t want it often, but when he did, he was demanding. He acted as though it was urgent for him but not for her. His performances were never bad. At least that’s what she told herself. 

For some strange reasons, Nekea felt a terrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t possibly describe it. She was a poet, so maybe she would try very hard later, but it was undeniable. She didn’t respond to her husband. She couldn’t. Something was wrong but she couldn’t place what it was. She went slightly limp and her eyes glazed over. Even her dense husband could sense it.

“What is wrong?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she whispered.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

“I-I-I,” she struggled to verbalize the feeling she had. “I don’t feel right.”

“Am I hurting you?”

“Not exactly, but something is wrong.”

“Well?” 

He stared at her and finally a voice she hardly recognized came from her throat, saying, “I don’t want you inside me tonight. Leave me alone and you go to sleep.”

Dreth Rajo looked so shocked it was almost comical. Nekea would have laughed if she was a stranger observing, but she felt too sickened and strange. She felt like her mind was elsewhere. She had never uttered words resembling this at him before. 

For a moment, Nekea was afraid. She had always wondered what would happen if she dared to tell her lover this sort of thing. She had never truly denied him his needs. It was unthinkable. Oh, there had been times where she was obviously ill or dead asleep. Dreth wasn’t brutal enough to force her or take her unawares. However, she had a feeling that something would give if she simply said ‘No’ for little to no reason at all. Now was the moment of truth. Would he get violent? Would he demand a divorce? Was this the end of their relationship?

He surprised her by cupping her face in his hands. His voice became tender and his eyes pleading as they never had before. He used all the persuasive power he had in storage for just such an emergency.

He told her, “Nekea, I am worried about you.”

“You are?”

“Yes. This isn’t like you.”

She was too confused and stunned to reply. 

“What is the matter, my love? You know this isn’t you speaking. You are a passionate woman. You always want it. What has happened to you in the past year? I’ve felt you slipping away from me. I think it’s the reason I’ve been reticent. I could sense something wrong in you. What is it?”

“I don’t know!” she cried.

She wanted to burst into tears. She wanted to scream. She wanted to hug him. She wanted to hit him. Instead, she felt paralyzed and frozen. She felt like she was going crazy.

“I love you, Nekea. You know that?”

“Yes?”

“I know you love me.”

“Yes,” that was much more certain.

He began pawing at her again. She ignored the nagging feeling. She focused on the physical pleasure the same as she had focused on the physical pain when she mutilated herself. She shut out the mental and emotional. Maybe everything he said was true. Maybe Dreth was always right. Maybe she was the problem and he was trying to solve it. This was her mate so why was she feeling repulsed? She had no right to feel this way and it would pass once she grew some sense. She was being shallow again, wasn't she? She was a terrible wife and a terrible woman! There was definitely something wrong with her!

She couldn’t help but think of Jonas and sigh…

Jonas heard Dreth leave early in the morning looking satisfied. He had duties to attend to. Dukat wasn’t generous enough to let him escape his dirty work for long. He waited for Nekea to come out of the bedroom for breakfast. He had replicated a grainy porridge with extra Olvian honey because he knew she loved it. There were Bajoran fruits for his breakfast. 

She did not leave the room for hours. He grew concerned and knocked on her door, not wanting to violate her privacy. He heard her voice faintly granting him permission. When he entered, she was in bed under the covers. She had gotten up to shower and change into day clothes and then realized she had no energy to leave the room. She just wanted to remain forever in the warm blankets, staring at the ceiling, puzzling what was wrong with her. She wanted to sleep and never wake up.

“Nekea,” Jonas called. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know.”

Jonas knelt beside her. He put his hand on her brow. Her skin was clammy and cold. He placed a thermometer under her tongue but her temperature seemed normal. Her blood was always naturally cooler even for a Cardassian. She kept blankets, jackets, and coats all around her. If gloves didn’t rob her of sensation, she would wear them constantly. 

“Just lie down beside me, please?” she asked him. “Please, Jonas?”

“Did your husband hurt you?” he snarled protectively.

“No. At least I don’t think so.”

“What does that mean?”

“Can you hurt someone without laying a hand on them?”

“Of course you can! Did he insult you? Did he call you a filthy name?”

“No. He just told me there must be something wrong with me.”

“Nekea!” Jonas cupped her face in his hands, but his hands were smooth and warm. “There is nothing wrong with you! Look at me! You are a beautiful and compassionate woman! You are intelligent and creative! You are loyal to a fault! To a fault! That’s your only flaw! You have your heart misplaced! That man is killing you!”

She couldn’t cry. She threw her arms around Jonas. She wanted to be held. 

“Show me your scars, Jonas?” she bravely asked.

“Yes.”

He removed his tunic and turned his back to her. She traced the deepest wound very gently.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not anymore. Most of the nerves in my back are dead,” he told her.

She pressed her lips to the scarred flesh with a butterfly light kiss, “Do you feel that?”

“No.”

With a ragged breath, she nudged his shoulder so that he was facing her. She kissed his bare chest.

“Did you feel that?”

“Nekea, should we be doing this?”

She tried to leave the bed, “Probably not. You are right. I’m crazy and stupid.”

He clutched her arm and said, “No. That is not what I meant. Nekea, I want this.”

“You do?” she looked at him with wide, hopeful eyes. 

“You are not a viper, Nekea. You are a Prophetess in the wrong skin.”

When their lips came together, it was like ancient magic. He was a man whose temperature always ran hot. He loved that her scales cooled him. Unlike Dreth, Jonas relished open mouth kissing and he was skilled at it. Very skilled. One kiss and she was on fire!

“You really don’t mind that he was just-“

“No.”

“Jonas, I am sorry. I am sorry for what my people are doing to yours. I am sorry someone tore your back to shreds. I am sorry-“

“You have nothing to do with any of it.”

“What can I do?”

“Just keep kissing me.”

She was more than happy to do that.


	9. Unfaithful

Nekea dreaded that her time was almost up on Terok Nor and tried to come up with creative ways to either bring Jonas with her or help him escape to freedom. They continued to have cuddling and kissing sessions when Dreth was gone. She felt some pangs of guilt. She was a married woman, after all. 

“Your husband obviously checked out of your marriage a long time ago,” Jonas told her. “He probably married you in the first place because he knew you were the best he was ever going to find. His family fell for you and you for them. He caved to pressure.”

“The crazy thing is that my heart is turning from him, but I still love his family. His parents did not raise him to be this way. He was a little spoiled, but he was never cruel or manipulative in our youth. His mother especially is such a sweetheart. His little sister shyly asked me if I was going to join her family on our first date. She was single digits in age then. I looked at her, smiled, and I told her: I hope so because I would be proud to be your big sister. Is it wrong that I love his family more than I love him now, Jonas?”

“Of course not! It’s proof that you are a loving person and some people turn twisted despite having a good home life. War brings out the true nature of people.”

“Do you have someone waiting for you on Bajor, Jonas?”

“I doubt it. My village was rounded up and told they had been reassigned. My parents were elderly and I was an only child. I was busy caring for them the vast majority of the time. The medicine woman was my friend and mentor. It was a small village so there were hardly any young people. Most left to find work long before the Cardassians arrived.”

“Did you love her, this medicine woman?” she asked.

He smiled, “I did. She was a widow by the time I came of age and older than me, but we did have a love affair for a while. I might have married her, but she said I was too young. I needed to venture out of the village and find someone my own age.”

“You never got the chance to do that.”

“No.”

“Jonas, tell me who scarred your back. Tell me everything,” she pleaded.

She knew Gul Russol and the Dissidents would be very pleased with her. He began to name each cruel overseer he had been struck by in the mines. He gave the name of the officer that came to collect the Bajorans from his village. They read the order for them to be seized and proudly declared that Prefect Dukat had signed the order. He told her every scrap of knowledge he could possibly recall or that she might find useful. She hoped they would try to reward this man in some small way for his service.

“Let’s get out of this room,” she said impulsively. “I should introduce you to a friend.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of mine.”

“You should never assume that!”

She hoped Gul Russol would promise Jonas some sort of protection if not his freedom. She began to lead him through Terok Nor. She almost passed Dreth’s sleeping quarters and hesitated. She still had not investigated them. Jonas tried to urge her on.

She knocked on the door, wondering if her husband was in there. Every other night, he kept to his quarters and not with her. He claimed he had important work and the quarters were his office as well as a place to rest his head. 

“Dreth, is that you?” she heard a woman's voice from within.

Jonas shot her a look of devastation. Nekea’s eyes became hard and she rapped upon the door impatiently as she knew her husband would. The door was flung open and they were greeted by a Bajoran woman. 

She was thin but not emaciated. Jonas had been eating regularly for nearly three weeks now and still sported bony ribs. She had large brown eyes, pale skin, small hands and feet, and a more generous backside than bosom. The most disturbing thing of all to Nekea’s mind was that the young thing clearly had mousy brown hair that was constantly being dyed red. Her roots were still showing and the dye was cheap quality she must have been purchasing from the Chemist. Her face was caked with makeup, fake eye lashes, and she wore an expensive and tight fitting dress that showed as much skin as possible. 

When she realized her mistake, the Bajoran girl became terribly pale. She backed away, raising her hands to shield herself. Her voice was shaky with fear. Nekea was too shocked to react for a minute or so. Jonas was staring at her with concern.

“Are you my husband’s comfort woman?” Nekea asked calmly. 

“I belong to Glinn Dreth Rajo,” she whimpered in reply.

“What is your name?”

She looked surprised that was the next question from her ‘rival’ and meekly said, “Naobi.”

“Naobi? Is that your first name?”

“Jolleld Naobi.”

“How old are you?”

“Nineteen.”

“How long have you been locked away in this room?”

“I was assigned to Dreth within a month of him being posted here. I was a gift to him from Gul Dukat.”

“How often does he sleep here with you?”

“Every night except for some of the nights you have been here.”

Nekea gazed around the quarters. It looked as though his comfort woman had been dutifully keeping them clean. She knew how much of an uphill battle that must be! Naobi looked scared still and exhausted. The dye in her hair was clearly drying out her scalp. Her makeup was smearing as she wept silently. She wasn’t naked, but she tried to cover herself as much as she could with her arms. 

Nekea knew she should automatically despise this woman. She should demand some sort of justice. Another woman would accuse her of being a whore and home wrecker. How dare she participate with her husband in adultery? But Nekea could look at this girl with nothing but pity. She saw herself in her. She was Bajoran, but many of their physical features were similar. She supposed the rumor that men often cheated with women eerily similar to their wives must be true. All people had a preferred type they kept to.

Nekea looked at her skin, scaled, not smooth. She looked at this girl, slightly younger and with wider hips. She saw the carefully painted mask of a face. She started to feel a little insecure, but she realized if she washed away the girl’s makeup, she was not a great beauty either. If she removed the clothes, she’d realize this girl was curvy in only slightly different places than she was. She was, or rather he was, not satisfied with her natural hair or natural beauty. How sad that must be. 

She scoffed a little, “Were there no real red heads on the station?”

“They were taken. Dreth doesn’t have the rank or enough of Dukat’s favor to be granted a real red head,” Naboi said bitterly. “So he forces me to dye it.”

“And the makeup?”

“Another demand.”

“He likes to complain I could ‘enhance’ myself,” Nekea groaned. “I asked him what that meant. I asked him if he wanted me to wear makeup and caught his hints about liking red hair. In the next breath he told me I shouldn’t have to change myself and I was beautiful the way I was. He is such a hypocrite and liar!”

She began to feel anger simmering and then boiling within her blood. Her eyes must have shown the violence of it because the girl cowered again and Jonas touched her arm, coaxing her to control it. She took a deep breath.

“Everything makes sense now,” she sighed. “The real reason why he lost physical interest in me, the reason he was so eager to remain in his sleeping quarters when he could. His needs were already being satisfied beyond any scope I could possibly give him. There are some things he would ask of me that I attempted because I loved him. There were some things I found humiliating and I told him so. I insisted I would never do them again for any man. There was even something he suggested, and then denied suggesting, that even I outright refused to do. He doesn’t have to persuade you to do a single act. You have no choice. You are a slave.”

“You risk a divorce if you refuse,” the Bajoran woman said with a scowl. “I could possibly risk my life if I turned Dreth down. Instead, I have to pretend I like it. I have to satisfy his needs and then I have to flatter him. I have to make him feel like a man. Sometimes he likes to pretend this is a real relationship and not a business transaction. It’s disgusting! He’s the most awkward and needy lover I have ever had to suffer!”

Nekea began to laugh darkly, “I know what you mean. I swear my husband has degenerated as a being not evolved or progressed. I am truly sorry for what he has made you suffer.”

“And who is that?” Naobi gestured to Jonas at her side. “Do the Cardassian women keep comfort men?”

Jonas glared at her and barked, “I love this woman! She does not use me the way Dreth Rajo uses you! She has kissed me but she hasn’t forced me to perform anything! We haven’t consummated our bodies at all!”

Both women looked at him with astonishment at his declaration. Then Nekea turned to the comfort woman again.

“Don’t tell Dreth I discovered you. I would get you out of here if I could. I will try to find a way to do it. I promise you.”

“I thought you would prefer to kill me!”

“We are both victims of the same man.”

With that she left the quarters and sought out Gul Russol. Jonas followed behind and she wanted to reach out and clasp his hand. They were on Terok Nor. Such an interaction wouldn’t be safe. He did whisper to her as they walked.

“Are you alright?”

“Yes.”

“You just discovered that your husband has been unfaithful to you! I thought you would explode in tears or violence!”

“I’m not surprised, Jonas. I am relieved. Compared to the other things Dreth has done, this is just typical. At least I am finally getting answers and I no longer have to feel a shred of guilt for what I’ve done with you. I am a woman that prefers the truth, no matter how terrible that truth is. Unanswered questions, puzzles that go unsolved, lingering mysteries for the sake of a mystery. That is the list of things that drive me insane!”

They arrived at Gul Russol’s temporary quarters. He feigned that he was annoyed with Nekea and insisted that the filthy Bajoran vole remain outside. They complied. 

“You have proven quite the seductress!” the Gul teased when she shut the door. “You earned the medicine man’s trust and his love! Maybe I am the fool and you are a skilled Obsidian Operative after all!”

“I am neither of those things!” she hissed. “Why am I being accused of enticing men by simply existing?”

“I am teasing, my puppet. I like to imagine what you would be like if you indulged your sultry side, that is all. You could even enslave a man like Gul Dukat if you were properly trained and confident!”

She shuddered at the very idea.

“I also see you finally explored your husband’s quarters!”

“Yes. I wanted to address that in part. What happens to Jonas and the comfort woman when I leave this station? That date is fast approaching. Can you buy us more time? How long until I am exposed as a spy and a traitor? Is the Dissident movement capable of protecting us?”

“I have been in contact with the movement. You may have to undergo a dramatic identity change. But I don’t think we’ve leaked enough information to flag you as a traitor. The incident on the Promenade was witnessed by too many aliens for that footage not to have been reported. You haven’t given Gul Dukat or his pet Changeling Odo reason to arrest you. The Obsidian Order is usually far more interested in ferreting out traitors and double agents within the military. I applaud your paranoia. You have reason to be paranoid. Just don’t slip up and you should be able to return to your civilian life on Cardassia and put all this behind you.”

“Put all this behind me?”

“Why not? You have served the Dissidents very well. You insist you are no soldier and of no further use. Why the sudden change of heart? You’ve also never mentioned your husband. You prefer to protect the Bajoran?”

She frowned, “I haven’t decided what Dreth deserves yet.”

“Either way, he is about to lose the love of his life. He just doesn’t know it yet. I would say that is the worst punishment he could receive.”

“Please tell me that I don’t have to lose Jonas!”

The Gul paused, “I hoped you were simply using him. You have a bad habit of falling in love with the wrong man, don’t you?”

“Not this time.”

“Your husband proved false and it took you years to see it. You have known Kylie Jonas a matter of weeks!”

“Jonas sees the light in me,” she responded. “He sees past the terrible circumstances of this Occupation, my part in it, through my scales, and into my pagh.”

“I see he is explaining his faith to you,” there was a faint smile on Gul Russol’s face.

“Am I to fake my death or something? Stage a suicide? I made a sort of attempt before.”

Gul Russol considered that, “No because they will scan your body most carefully.”

“What if I steal Dreth’s armor and ID-“

“I take back what I said earlier,” he interrupted her. “You would make a poor agent. Now you must leave before someone notes your absence!”

“If I must take a new name and identity, I know what name I would choose,” she grinned wide. “Kylie Ona.”

“Sounds completely foreign,” he grumbled. “Remember that he is just a Bajoran. You can’t breed normal children from him.”

“Love isn’t supposed to be about procreation!”

“Don’t you want to be a mother? Don’t you want a normal life?”

“Not anymore.”

“You are too delusional to be an operative.”

“Delusional?” she was offended. “Look at this place! Look at what we, as a people, are doing here? It’s the men cracking whips in the mines that are delusional! It’s the Prefect writing laws to justify the comfort women system and calling it a mutually beneficial agreement that is delusional! My husband with his stock piles of stolen goods and stolen valor…”

She stopped herself because she realized she was ranting. Gul Russol gently shooed her out the door and Jonas was looking at her with fierce pride. He heard the last few things she had said. She smirked at him, passion igniting within her eyes.

“Good evening, my puppet,” Gul Russol said. “I will consider everything you have said and discovered today. Please try to be careful and not get yourself killed.”


	10. Disassociation

As usual, her husband was too much of a coward to confront Nekea about anything and she knew better than to expose what she knew of him. When he decided to grace their quarters, she was wary. She wanted to tell him to return to the arms of his comfort woman, but she knew Naobi didn’t want him any more than she did now. She wanted to call him out on his every sin. Instead, she had to keep up the farce they were married.

Jonas gave her several glances as the evening went on, warning her not to lose her head. He served them dinner as she kept silent and Dreth was celebrating his good fortune at dabo.

“Oh, how much did you win?” Nekea asked but concentrated on her food.

“Never you mind. I almost never win, so you should be happy for me.”

“Was it enough to pay off your debts?”

“Why do you have to bring that up?”

“How much do you owe and to how many people?”

“More than I care to count,” he groaned. “Why are you so dour?”

“Are you really planning to stay with me tonight?”

“Oh, I understand,” he chuckled. “You want me snoring beside you every night keeping you from your beauty sleep? I promise I’ll spend the last few days you have here at your side. I have not been the best husband.”

She couldn’t look at him lest she stared daggers.

“I have made arrangements to visit you within the next family holiday. This station is the opposite of warm and romantic. I would like to take you to a place of your choosing.”

She forced a smile, “I will make a list and start narrowing it down to a single place. I couldn’t possibly decide now.”

“I did get you an anniversary gift. Better late than never, right?”

“Dreth, I don’t need it,” she waved a hand. “I would have accepted it on our actual anniversary. What is the point at this stage? Half the sentimentality is gone. A gift along with a real vacation feels more like a bribe. You said you still have debts-“

“Why must you be so difficult about accepting a gift, Nekea? You haven’t seen it and why does the exact date matter more than the gift itself?”

“Does anything matter to you, Dreth?” she couldn’t help herself.

“You matter to me.”

That line might have worked on her before she came to Terok Nor. That was before she became an unwilling spy, a Dissident, and a Bajoran sympathizer. That felt like a lifetime ago and she didn’t feel like returning to it. Even the girl she had been was tired of hanging onto this man’s every word. The agent she was expected to be must play along just a couple days more.

“Let me see the gift. Yours was our marriage contract finally framed and notarized properly. Both of us dragged our feet on that so long. I can point out where it’s hidden before I leave for Cardassia.”

“I’m sure it’s beautiful, but aren’t marriage contracts supposed to be hidden in vaults not shown off?”

“I was proud of it.”

She almost lost her wits when he produced the same skin tight dress she had seen his mistress wearing. The only difference was the color and the measurements. Naobi’s had been an orange the color of a sunset over water. This one was the traditional Cardassian black. In most cultures, black was a color of mourning. She preferred the color blue honestly. 

“Well, are you going to put it on so I can take it off you?”

Her stomach lurched and she tried not to vomit in her mouth, “What makes you think I’m in the mood for that?”

Jonas was a ghastly color at both the sight of the dress and he understood their every word. Nekea had pretended to turn the translators off and was recording their conversation. She wondered if Jonas would be the one to lose his cool.

“You’ve been broadcasting your pheromones all evening,” Dreth said mischievously. “Don’t play hard to get, though it is a nice change in you.”

She said with real hurt, “I’m so used to you turning me down when I ask. Do you know how deep it cuts when you prefer anything but spending such time with me?”

“I promise things are going to get better for both of us.”

She knew Gul Russol would probably want her to play seductress here. However, the thought of allowing this monster to touch her for another instant was so abhorrent. She once would have given anything for it! How things could drastically change, how quickly love could become hate. She never understood how a person could fall out of love with their partner and so quickly in love with another. Now she understood all too well. 

She feared if he touched her she would scream at the top of her lungs and declare the last night he had taken from her was practically stolen and a betrayal of her dignity, her body, and her pagh. She wished she could travel back in time and tell him ‘No’ and remain steadfast. Their last night as lovers had been awkward as hell, mechanical; she would even call it pathetic. 

“You have the absolute worst timing,” a lie came to her so easily she was proud, “I am in full cycle.”

He cursed with disappointment and she felt delicious relief. Her husband was very squeamish about her courses. He avoided her bed during and long after just in case she was somehow still bleeding. It didn’t matter how much she tried to reassure him it was over, yet he would be covered in sweat and dirt from a day of work and she never much minded. 

“I knew I should have proposed this before!”

“It can’t be helped,” she shrugged and smiled to ease the tension.

“I still won’t leave you tonight,” he insisted.

Her heart sank and Jonas made an involuntary noise. Dreth glared at him. She had to endure him sleeping beside her, but thankfully, that was all he expected of her. 

She took so long falling asleep, afraid he might change his mind, that she slept far later than she intended. Not only was Dreth gone, but Jonas was as well. She never called Dreth at work if she could help it, but she did, terrified for her lover.

“Dreth,” she tried to sound casual. “Where is the medicine man? Now is the sort of time I need a doctor of any kind and he must have wandered off.”

His voice was cold, “You mean that Bajoran? What was his name? Some sort of woman’s name?”

“You know perfectly well what it was.”

“It doesn’t matter. I had him thrown back where he belongs.”

She thought her heart had frozen in her breast and gasped, “Why?”

“Because I noticed last night your pheromones were firing off like crazy until that moment that creature was gone from the room.”

Gul Russol was waiting for her on the Promenade though it looked like he was casually browsing and patrolling with that Changeling Odo at his side. She waited until the stern investigator was gone before she approached the Gul.

“Jonas-“

“I know what Glinn Rajo has done. Luckily the mines won’t kill him immediately and your fool husband threw him in there out of pure and impulsive jealousy. If he bothered to investigate further, the Dissidents might have been exposed and your precious medicine man would be hanging from a rope! I told you to be careful, girl!”

“If only I had artificial pheromones in a bottle,” she said sarcastically. “I couldn’t hide those! What can I do to get Jonas back? I can’t leave him to die! He may have saved my life and I owe him! My feelings have nothing to do with that. It is a matter of honor.”  
Gul Russol gripped her arm, “I have a deadly surprise of my own for your Glinn. Odo just informed me that Gul Dukat is officially done with him. He is on his way to seize him for trial and execution now.”

“But shouldn’t he be taken back to Cardassia-“

“What happens on this station remains on this station. They’ll want you to testify against him and disassociate with him or support him and stand trial for treason yourself. Of course, you wish to disassociate?” 

She grinned wryly and nodded in answer but realized, “What happens to Naobi?”

“I requested that Dukat transfer her to me. I will keep her safe as a house keeper until this Occupation ends and I can free her. She can stop dying her hair and painting her face. I am getting far too ancient to indulge with any women, and my taste is not for Bajorans. That is something you and your spouse share! Bajorans are thin, pale, and ugly in my eyes.”

“She’s going to be terrified of you!”

“With my silver hair, milky eyes, and my winning personality? It’ll be fun to scare her just a little. I won’t traumatize her, just engage in some brief and harmless sport for my part in all this!”

“At least she’ll be free of him!”

“I have to coach you on exactly what you will be expected to say and on anything else Dukat might have to say. When you refer to Glinn Rajo’s mistress, don’t let on that you know her species! Don’t you dare go off script!”

“I will do as you say. Then I must rescue Jonas.”

“After the trial, you are on your own, much as I like you.”

The very next morning, the Prefect ran his kangaroo court. Nekea was distracted, wondering how many new scars Jonas would collect on his back by the time she found him. Dreth looked defeated but he had not been tortured. He had already signed his confession. Then again, all Cardassians knew that once they were brought to trial, a real legal trial or clearly illegal and informal trial like this one, their fate was already sealed. Her role was only as a witness and she had never been in a courtroom setting before. She was expected to be nervous.

“Nekea, do you wish to disassociate from Dreth Rajo, forever severing ties with his name and traitorous acts?” she was asked by the prosecutor.

She noted that they had stripped him of his rank, another sure sign of his fate. She sighed, thinking of the teenager she had fallen in love with. He had been a sensitive, quite, and thoughtful man then with enormous potential. He squandered that and gave up on nearly all his dreams, including the dream of being a father. She knew he would have been a terrible father and was very grateful he had never managed to get her pregnant. Look at him now! He barely fit in his armor. He looked unwashed, unkempt and depressed. He couldn’t even meet her eyes.

“I do,” she said the words with more satisfaction than she had on their wedding day.

“I have been told you were working with Gul Russol and Central Command all this time to exonerate yourself from his crimes?”

“Yes.”

“You can exhibit evidence that your former husband was abusing goods confiscated from terrorists for personal gain? And have you been made aware of the other accusations?”

“Please review them for me?” she was morbidly curious.

“He has been accused of doctoring accounts of his inventory entrusted to him, of selling off some enemy weapons to natural aliens like Ferengi, gifting finer quality luxury items to family and friends, and personally lining his pockets to feed a gambling and alcohol addiction instead of paying his debts. Those goods belong to Cardassia. His job was to sort and move goods through proper channels and to the proper people. To summarize all this: He is a traitor!”

“I see no problem with this logic,” she responded. “I have had many conversations with Glinn-I’m sorry-with Dreth Rajo about his debts. All of the recent ones were recorded and transcripts were provided. I also surrendered the expensive and dubious dress he tried to give me. I have not seen her, but I know he keeps a mistress. He gave her an identical dress.”

Gul Russol raised his hand, “Allow me to add that he has showered this mistress with other expensive goods whose source can be immediately traced to Bajorans. His quarters where he kept her were full of more damning evidence. If you ask me, the greatest crime of all is just how incredibly sloppy and stupid this man has been.”

“Nekea, what is your maiden name?”

“Tarsus.”

“Nekea Tarsus, you have served Cardassia well. Your marriage is annulled, as though it had never been. What will you do now?”

“I may register for colony life,” she said absent-mindedly. “My family as well as his will be heartbroken over this. Somehow, I always get saddled with blame because of this man. I may need a period of intense isolation to recover.”

“Understandable. You are dismissed. No need to exacerbate your pain.”

She was escorted from the trial by Odo. He looked like he wanted to strike a conversation with her but she said bitterly, “I don’t want conversation with an alien right at this moment!”

Odo nodded.

Dreth was sentenced to death. There were mountains of evidence that Dukat had merely exaggerated a little. She was granted one last private conversation with him. There was nothing more they needed. For once, they could speak honestly and freely. At least she would. She knew she could never trust this man to speak the truth. He hadn’t even written justifications or excuses in his confession.

“Are you going to say you’ll miss me?” he asked.

“That depends on you,” she echoed his poor greeting the first day.

“Relationship joke!” he laughed with no mirth. “Hilarious!”

“I never found our relationship a joke. Why can’t you look me in the eye and tell me the truth, Dreth?”

He stubbornly stared at the holding cell floor, “I guess you are free to take whatever lovers you like now. I must warn you that your Bajoran is probably crushed in a collapsed tunnel and Dukat is not only married but he keeps a mistress far more beautiful than you. He might entertain you for a one night stand though. Go ahead and roll the dice.”

“You are trying to hurt me in our last moments?” she was astonished.

“Don’t pretend you are perfect!”

“I never did! I humbled myself all the time for you and not falsely. I was always apologizing when I shouldn’t have. I thought you were so much stronger, braver, wise and mature. I know no I was the real hero of this relationship, the one with all the love, carrying us both on my fragile back. Your family will disown you and see the truth at last. You brought this on yourself and I finally got tired of drowning trying to save you!”

“I never asked you to save me! I didn’t ask for your love! You gave that to me because you wanted to! You could have always left! I half expected you to do it! Leave me to my fate, woman! I deserve it! Take whatever is left of me!”

“Stop talking like you are always the victim!” Nekea shouted. “You were the one that trapped me because I believed in keeping my word and being loyal, unlike you! Did you ever love me? Did you ever love her?”

“I meant everything I said to you at the time, Nekea.”

“What time? When did you stop loving me?”

“Did you not see my doubt when I hesitated to marry you?”

“You were the absolute king of mixed messages, Dreth! You promised me you wouldn’t do these things to me! The least you can do is stop lying through your teeth! When did you ‘fall out of love’ with me?”

“Two years ago. I thought I was no longer attracted to you.”

She thought he couldn’t possibly hurt her anymore. She was wrong. She felt for a moment her ventricles in her heart would explode or that her brain was misfiring. 

“How can you say that?” she wailed. “Do you have any idea what declaring something like that does to a woman? It doesn’t even make sense! You had no mistress until you came here! You still gave off pheromones! You coaxed me that last night Do you remember that I didn't want to do it? You treated me like a comfort woman!!”

“I get terribly confused.”

She cursed at him, “You mean you get horny! You are a typical shallow man!"

"You are so good at insults, you know that?" he groaned. "So melodramatic! Look who suddenly thinks she knows everything!"

"I want you to explain these actions to me!" she demanded. "Explain your logic or lack thereof!"

"There's no use explaining anything! There's nothing to explain, woman! What's the use? No matter what I say you'll just hate me even more! Why does it matter?"

"Because my feelings matter, Dreth! I matter! You owe me answers! These questions you refuse to answer are going to keep me awake for the rest of my life!"

"I owe you nothing, you sad pathetic girl!" he snapped.

"I wish I had been unfaithful to you! Believe it or not, all I have done is kiss that Bajoran! I could forgive your infidelity if your mistress had at least been more beautiful than me! Then maybe I could understand. You succeeded in making me feel like the ugliest woman in the world! Are you happy you nearly destroyed me? Was that your goal? Is that why the minute other men came sniffing around me, you suddenly wanted me again fiercely?”

“Honestly, the thought of you happy without me did infuriate me and I was afraid of being alone. I miss the happiness we shared. I still enjoy you from time to time.”

“I love your family-“

“No you don’t. How can you? They’re mine and not yours. But go ahead, let them adopt you in place of me. I knew they always hated me deep down.”

“There you go again!” she was furious on behalf of them. “Not only blaming me but your blood next? Their mistake was overindulging and enabling you. Perhaps I am guilty of it too. You’ll choke on your rope blaming everyone and everything but yourself!”

“Ropes are for Bajorans. I’ll get the firing squad.” She turned to leave and he cried, “Promise me you will at least remember me?”

She said viciously, “Definitely not fondly. You poisoned all our good memories with your actions in the last years!”

“I don’t care as long as I’m remembered. Good or bad, I made a permanent mark on you. That’s all I wanted.”

“This is the mark you left on me, Dreth!” she showed him the scar on her wrist. “You nearly drove me to suicide, did you know or care about that? How did you justify letting me cry myself to sleep at night? Gul Russol witnessed you do such things himself. I’m not crazy. I was never crazy, yet you let me think that! This wound will heal, and if it doesn’t, I’ll have a surgeon correct it. I will heal from you! You are sick for only caring if the mark you leave is permanent and not good or bad. I would rather leave a good impression on a person’s memory or none at all! I would never wish to inflict harm or ill on them! That is the difference between you and me.”

“Fine. I’m a monster then.”

“Do you have anything more to say to me before you die and I walk out of your life forever, stripping your name and existence from me?”

She granted him a final chance. Why? Who the hell knew why? 

“Be safe.”

“Be safe?” she wanted to spit on him and she had never done such a thing to anyone in her life. “Two words that mean nothing, that’s all you’ve got?”

“You’re the poet. Be safe,” he repeated.

She said over her shoulder as she walked away for real this time, “I’m not watching your execution. I’ll let you die alone and unloved the way you let me feel the entirety of our marriage.”


	11. The Mines

Nekea was surprised when the Prefect himself escorted her to the shuttle when it was time for her to leave Terok Nor forever. She wondered for a terrifying moment if Gul Russol had sold her out or if she had given herself away to the Changeling or someone else less clever. Luckily, Gul Dukat was simply playing the role of a gentleman. She squeezed the Lover icon she had clasped about her throat and tucked into her bosom for comfort. 

“I do wish your stay had been more pleasant, my dear,” he said regretfully. “I understand why the Bajorans fear the name of this station. It wasn’t designed to be a vacation destination but a place to detain suspected terrorists and give the innocent ones meaningful work. It can be a very accommodating place for Cardassians, however. I do hope I can lift the ban on wives visiting the station. I miss my wife and children so. Perhaps if your former husband had your sweet presence to comfort him, he would not have fallen so hard from grace.”

“What did you see in Dreth Rajo, if I might ask? What made him a good enough soldier that you requested him?”

He paused to search her motives in her face.

“I just want to hear that there was still good in that man,” she wasn’t lying. “I don’t like to think I fell for a monster. I don’t like to think I was a fool.”

He instantly became sympathetic, “War can bring out the worst in people. I believe in second chances. I occasionally mentor men that others of my rank overlook. Such men can be full of surprises and they are far more grateful than some starry eyed cadet that made the best marks at the academy and prattled the best words. They can become arrogant and climb the ranks believing it was all on their merit. I can’t deny they are men and women of worth, but they often forget their choices are half chance. So is everybody else’s.”

She was impressed once again with Dukat’s rhetoric and charm. He was leagues above her former husband. She could almost forget he was the one that groomed Dreth specifically to absorb the fallout from his own corruption. He gifted Naobi to her husband in the first place and he kept a comfort woman secretly himself. She wondered if she thought he was a gentleman, whoever the Bajoran woman was. 

“If it makes you feel better, Dreth Rajo didn’t suffer,” he continued. “His executioners’ aim was on point. It was quick. His body was then incinerated and surrendered to space.”

She winced a little, “His mother would have wanted his body returned for a proper farewell.”

“His family followed your example and disassociated too.”

“So now it really is like he didn’t ever exist in a way.”

“You know I could allow you to say a little longer.”

“Why would you allow that?” she was thrown off guard.

He smiled, “So that you could court the suitable bachelors here, of course! I didn’t lie when I said that the men would line up for you.”

“I disassociated, but I need a period of mourning.”

“Yes, well, I was trying to cheer you up. You deserve to find love again, Nekea Tarsus. I am sure you will.”

He bowed graciously as she prepared to board. She saluted the proper way. Even civilians were taught how to do that much. 

“Remember your agreement,” he said in a low voice. “Do reassure the people of Cardassia that the Occupation will eventually lead to Bajor being broken in like a wild horse and serving the Union.”

“So long as they are treated better.”

“I keep my word.”

As a way to show his support to her, Dukat had allowed her to use a private and luxurious shuttle for transport. She had few things to pack and carry with her. The less she took with her from the station, the better. It had been thoroughly investigated but the only thing remotely worth asking about was the basic first aid kit she had and extra food. She kept an all weather coat as well as gloves. That was actually pretty standard for any wise traveler.

As soon as she was able, she entered new coordinates into the itinerary of the computer’s GPS. She had been granted one last boon from Gul Russol. He had revealed the location of the mine Jonas had been sentenced to and he had communicated to the Dissidents that within three days, she was to be extracted with her Bajoran if she could find him. 

“Good luck,” he had told her. “May you find your Jonas, Kylie Ona. The Dissidents will take you to a colony planet or into hiding if necessary.”

“Thank you for everything, Gul Russol,” she hugged him.

The mines were one of hundreds of locations where Bajorans were regularly worked to death. Sometimes the ores they extracted were radioactive. They had no scales to protect them from that sort of thing. They were also excruciatingly hot and narrow most of the time. Besides a few overseers on patrol, it was next to impossible to really monitor what went on. It was too dark and vast for most equipment and the Cardassians had to be cheap and stretch their resources. Besides, who cared about Bajoran slaves doomed to die?

Nekea was able to access a basic map of this particular mine, likely inaccurate because new tunnels were being made or purposely abandoned or refilled constantly. This mine was a copper mine and not deadly material, thank goodness, or Jonas might be already suffering terrible radiation sickness. She imagined his organs shutting down or vomiting black liquid and was grateful it was only in her imagination. Copper would always be a vital ore even for space age tech. 

She wore her all weather coat, carried the first aid kit and the food rations as she abandoned the craft and tried to use an inactive entrance/exit of the mine to avoid the eyes of the overseers. With her Cardassian eyes, she could see much better than the poor Bajorans. They were given inefficient lamps to work within the mines to prevent them from running too far without getting lost. They had limited battery life. Their digging tools were dull so they were discouraged from using them as weapons and to discourage the idea of tunneling to freedom. She had heard of some Bajorans persisting and digging themselves out anyway by using those dull things anyway and carrying the dirt out in their pockets, bribing one overseer to look the other way. 

She knew she had to be cautious. A Cardassian overseer would seize her and arrest her before she could find and rescue Jonas. The Bajorans would likely want to extract revenge upon her once they realized she was Cardassian. Any woman was especially doomed if found out in the mines from both species. She didn’t want to know what Gul Russol refused to repeat of that scenario. She kept to the darkness and listened for the sound of workers echoing through the tunnels.

It didn’t take very long to hear the tools chipping away, the slap of bare feet on uneven ground, and the curses of overseers and miserable sounds of the slaves. She wasn’t stupid enough to cry out for Jonas. She whistled in the dark instead. She whistled out one of the slow and melancholy medicine songs that Jonas had sang to her and taught her.

It took the workers some time to recognize that the whistling might be from something sentient and not simply the wind. It was not uncommon for them to hear strange and eerie sounds. In the claustrophobic darkness, such sounds could terrify the bravest of men. She heard them pause their work to listen and argue if the sounds were intelligent. Her translator was basic and slow. They spoke in multiple dialects and had short fuses. It was hard to make out anything intelligible. 

They decided to ignore the whistles and she whistled louder, making the melody clearer. The men ceased their work and began to argue again. Eventually their work continued and she became frustrated. Maybe Jonas was not among them today? Maybe he was in some place on the other side of the mine? Maybe she would never find him?

She began to hear a voice respond. It was a Bajoran man singing the same medicine song quietly, but it was growing louder. She almost leaped with joy and was glad she kept her head or she would have banged it hard upon jagged rock ceiling. She whistled the next key change. His voice became louder, nearer, and though the song was haunting and peaceful, he made it sound cheerful. She whistled happily back.

Finally she saw dim light approaching and could make out her beloved Jonas. She burst into tears of relief and happiness and he caught her in his arms. The lamp clattered away, forgotten for a moment. They kissed each other and she felt his tears raining upon her. 

“Nekea, my Nekea, is that really you?” he sobbed.

She nodded, still afraid to speak in case someone heard.

“What are you doing here? I’m just a Bajoran! You shouldn’t have come here! Your husband-“

She made a gesture of slicing her throat. He understood that grim sign language well enough. It was practically universal.

“Did you do it yourself? Did you poison him or something better?”

She shook her head. She imitated gunfire and held up many hands. He was clever, he knew what that implied.

“That’s back stabbing Cardassians for you, no offense, my love.”

She gave him food and had brought plenty of water. He needed it badly. She gestured for him to pull up his tunic. 

“I haven’t been struck. Thanks to your care, I am stronger than the others. I haven’t stumbled or slowed my pace enough to warrant a beating.”

She stroked his face, a bit furrier than before. Once he had his fill of food and water, she led him deeper into the mines. His comrades or an overseer might come lurking for him. They needed to hide for a few days before the Dissidents could come pick them up at the designated spot.

Until then, there was nothing for them to do but make love as they waited. She was no longer a married woman. She was tired of being loyal to a fault, tired of being self-sacrificing, tired of being underappreciated. She had finally realized she had been trapped in a marriage with a man that didn’t love her and barely wanted her. He just wanted her around for those times he decided he wanted easy company. She had begged the man for a mutual break and he had proposed instead.

Jonas had helped her break free and she would in turn free him. Jonas was her redemption. He was the man she not only wanted, but she needed him and he actually seemed to love and need her. He clung to her in the dark. She used her gray eyes to see for him. She was glad he could see less of her. She was still so self conscious. Dreth made so many disparaging little comments about her body she wasn’t wholly convinced weren’t justified yet. 

The tunnels were just as humid and hot as the Bajorans complained, but she was a Cardassian woman. She absorbed the heat and kept Jonas cool in return with her scaly skin. They began to explore each other. If they were caught it meant the end of their existence. They had to seize this chance.

She loved his smooth skin. She thought it made him soft in character at first glance, but Jonas had proven her wrong, showing her his unbreakable spirit in small glimpses. He had hated her alien features until he realized there was a compassionate soul lurking behind this woman’s scales and gray skin. She was indeed a woman like none other. She was no serpent. If she was, she was one of those serpents that gifted wisdom and love not treachery and lies.

“I love-“

“Don’t say that to me unless you mean it, Jonas!” she stopped him. “Apparently I’ve lived with a man that said that for two years and maybe never meant it!”

He looked at her defiantly, not with wrath, and he spouted, “I love you, Nekea!”

She should force him to say it again and again. She should make him crawl and prove it. Cardassians usually required great combinations of word play and multiple actions before they came remotely close to declaring such a thing. Some couples never said it. They thought words cheapened the emotion behind them. 

Nekea just didn’t care anymore. The sincerity was in the man’s eyes, in his touch, in the tremor of his voice. Those things had been entirely missing in her husband. His body language didn’t match the language of his mouth. They had both of them, the Bajoran man and the Cardassian woman, experienced enough abuse.

She kissed him as though she was going to devour him. She wanted true passion in her life. That was what she had craved and Dreth had denied her. Jonas didn’t shy from her tongue or flinch if she used her teeth to gently nip and tease. Sweet Prophets and stars! Her husband hated kissing. He preferred she use her lips anywhere but upon his lips. She never understood his logic. Hell, Jonas was a superstitious shrine dweller and he was more logical!

He was also a very good kisser. He used it with subtlety, tracing the ridges of her mouth as though to tickle her brain. It sent signals down her spine. She pulled at his tunic impatiently. He helped her to help him so she could feel his arms, shoulders, and torso. He seemed fragile, but his skin felt and looked good. He smiled and encouraged her to keep touching.

“I’m not made of glass,” he chuckled. “You may be stronger and tougher than me, but there is some bone and muscle under this skin.”

“There’s not enough muscle and fat,” she observed. “I still need to fatten you up properly. The measly rations I’ve already given you are clearly not enough!”

“That’ll be corrected in time. Less hard labor will help.”

He was about to remove her navy blue blouse when she gasped and pointed, “A mouse!”

“Are you afraid of mice? You don’t consider them a tasty snack?” Jonas joked.

“No,” she glared a little. “I think it was spying on us! It was blonde like you!”

“He’s harmless. Maybe we should give him a name.”

He helped her tug off her clothes. He began to tickle and count her ribs. He had to look harder for them on account of the dark and she was better fed. She had breasts after all. They were not bulky creations of her clothing and she had not been using padding. She really was not that different from a Bajoran besides the silvery scales turning stormy under his touch.

“Am I bruising you?” he asked.

“No,” her face ‘blushed’ gray. “Cardassians flash darker color in their scales when aroused.”

“How dark can I make you?” he was intrigued and set the lamp as close as possible.

She tried to knock the lamp away, still ashamed. She giggled as he teased the curves of her and kissed the ridges, then the scales, then the patches of skin almost as smooth as his. She flashed nearly midnight black when he grazed teeth on her neck.

“Oh, please be careful there!” she gasped, her eyes dilating.

“Why? Are they fragile?”

“They’re very erogenous,” she whispered. “On our men, too, but a thousand times more so on our women!”

“Tell me more secrets!” he licked the same spot sensually.

She moaned and gripped his long gold hair to pull his head back, “Just slow down a bit! We have plenty of time!”

“Alright.”

She gave him a quick anatomy lesson using laymen’s terms. Some parts of her neck were, in fact, dangerously fragile. Others were the equivalent of a Bajoran woman’s ‘G spot’. He used deft fingers to make her nearly swoon with pleasure. It was dark, but sparks and super novas were blasting behind her optics and in her brain. He stroked her chest scales at the same time, sending her over the edge. 

Her husband had never paid much attention to those and he’d tease her neck ridges just enough to get her slightly excited but never quite satisfy her. He was more concerned with his precious time and addressing his needs first. Once he was satisfied, he was usually too tired to finish whatever he started. She tried to pinpoint when, or if, Dreth had ever truly made her orgasm. Why was she having trouble remembering? Why hadn’t she really tried recalling such a thing before? That was a sign her probably never had.

She knew what one really felt like now. She might have come close before and assumed that was an orgasm, but she knew better now. It felt like a trembling avalanche throughout her body and brain followed by delightful little aftershocks that went down to her toes and made her whole body tingle. The buildup of tension had actually been channeled somewhere not simply bottled up again or allowed to pathetically dissipate. 

They hadn’t even completely disrobed yet! She made him pause for more kisses, then she mounted him once they truly naked. Once again, she wasn’t too different from a Bajoran. Jonas was pleasantly surprised. Because she was stronger, she could remain on top, endure longer, move her body with a bit more ease and athleticism. She usually never enjoyed being on top or dominant in any way. She had let Dreth take nearly complete control. 

Not only did she ride him, she was willing to slightly pivot back or inch forward, to adjust her knees or plant her feet differently. She smiled down at him and raked his chest. He squeezed her hips and pulled himself up to give proper attention to her torso.

“Slow down,” he groaned. “Show mercy, or I’ll finish too soon!”

“Am I really that good?” she stopped immediately.

“You may be.”

She set an even, slow pace. Somehow, that made it better. She thought it always needed to be fast and rough. Her husband always demanded she rock faster and looked bored while on his back like he expected something from her but wouldn’t or couldn’t say what. Jonas actually seemed quite pleased and he was willing to give a little himself.

She let out a laugh that sounded almost like a wicked cackle and pinned Jonas’ arms down. She felt an aggressive side of her she never knew existed, but not violent. She felt power coursing in her veins not just passive pleasure. Even when she let Jonas on top, she tried to give as good as she got. She raked her nails down his back and felt something wet. She smelled blood and realized she had broken his skin!

“Oh, Jonas, I didn’t mean to!” she gasped in horror.

“No!” he gritted his teeth. “It feels good! Remember, I have tons of scars already and barely any nerves on my back. That’s the first time I’ve felt anything there in months!”

She growled and kissed him. They must have been going at it a long time by the time Jonas gave out. She’d never had a man not pull out of her before in that critical moment. That was always Dreth’s way. He would pull out and refuse to finish inside her. Why, she wasn’t entirely sure. Maybe it was yet another petty thing he could dangle over her and use to make her feel worthless yet again. It was also because he was terrified of becoming a father even though he insisted he was sterile. He’d never bothered to show her the proof of that.

She began to sob.

“Nekea?” he stroked her hair. “Are you alright?”

“That was wonderful! These are good tears!” she reassured him. “When did you get to be such an excellent lover?”

“You wouldn’t lie to me, would you, Nekea?”

“Never!”

She wrapped her arms and legs around him, afraid he would pull away. Jonas didn’t want to move away from her. He held her a long time.

“I love you, Jonas. There. I said it. I should have said it before all this not after.”

“No, I know how Cardassians are with that phrase.”

“Thank you for saving me. Hopefully the Dissidents will be where Gul Russol said they would be.”

“I didn’t save you. You saved yourself.”

“Is that mouse still around?”

“Stop worrying about the mouse! Sleep. I will keep watch for you.”

“Fine, but if you feel like more love-making, wake me for the fun!”


	12. Epilogue

Nekea and Jonas remained in the safety of shadow and darkness until the last moment they possibly could. Outside there was light and fresh air, but there were also patrols. They couldn’t be found near as easy in the maze of tunnels. After Jonas’ lamp flickered out, she became their eyes. She was a bit more claustrophobic than him and when there was faint rumbling, she began to have an anxiety attack. Jonas soothed her through it and explained that was normal. 

There were a few times they heard the workers and the overseers in the distance. If they seemed to be drawing close, they stealthily crept away. The noises could be disturbing and frightening. They heard mutterings, the constant noise of the drilling and digging, and occasionally the cracking and snapping of whips, chains, and bones. They held each other as Jonas prayed and she struggled to navigate their way to an exit. 

She was concerned they were lost. It was one thing to study and memorize a map and another to explore the actual area. Every tunnel looked the same. It was easy to be disoriented. She hadn’t brought a terrible amount of food and insisted Jonas consume more. Cardassians had a slower metabolism thanks to their physiology. A soldier could go much longer than her. They had a small window in which to catch their rescue.

Just when she was about to despair, a blonde mouse scampered across her feet. She hissed at it and it boldly stood on its hind legs and squeaked at her. She wanted to kick the vermin from her feet, but Jonas was intrigued. 

“You know, I almost think you were right!” he said. “This little guy has been following us!”

“Do you know what they do to spies on Cardassia?” she growled at the animal.

The mouse squeaked again and scampered toward a different tunnel. Then it stood on its legs again and squeaked.

“You know, when a ship is drowning at sea, there is a piece of good advice about rats on Bajor,” Jonas grinned in the dark. “Do they have a similar adage on Cardassia?”

“Follow them, for they know better than we about how to avoid drowning!” 

They began to follow the mouse even though they knew it was probably madness. Sure enough, though, they began to smell the scent of sweet air and to see light. When they stepped outside, the mouse began to shimmer amber. They thought they were hallucinating. The mouse shimmered, expanded, changed shape, and the Changeling Odo stood before them.

“Odo, please, I beg you!” Nekea cried in despair. “Don’t drag us back to Terok Nor and to the Prefect! Please!”

“Leave us alone, Collaborator!” Jonas shouted with hatred, ready to fight tooth and nail.

Odo stared at them with his crystal blue eyes for a moment and then spoke, “Just tell me one thing, Nekea: Do you actually love this man, or are you doing this out of petty revenge? Do you plan to use this Bajoran for some personal gain, or do you plan to spend the rest of your life with him?”

She was flabbergasted by his question, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Answer me,” the Changeling’s eyes, so cold and dispassionate before, suddenly became pleading and haunted. “I need to know the truth of this matter.”

“I love him,” she told him clearly.

The Changeling smiled, “That gives me much needed clarity and hope. I see so much ugliness on that station. You have no idea. I need to believe there are good, loving people in this universe.”

“What are you going to do?” Jonas asked warily. 

“I am letting you go.”

“Oh, thank you, Odo!” Nekea almost burst into tears of relief and gratitude.

“Dukat only instructed me to keep an eye on you. I have done that. Now I will watch as you resume your lives. There is another thing. Take this.”

He gave them a data rod and Jonas said, “What is this?”

“It is my discreet contact information,” Odo answered. “It also has security codes that you may find useful if you are in a pickle. I know by now that you are some sort of Dissident, Nekea, but you require every bit of help you can get. I can see that Gul Russol is also a good man. I was not expecting that. I may have to befriend him.”

“What about your Master?”

Odo made a disgusted noise, “You think I admire that man? On the contrary, I hate him. I am loyal to him only as my employer. I keep the peace on the station and try to enforce something resembling justice. I let the Prefect think I am his pet. I let others think so too. You certainly fell for the act, Nekea.”

“Are you a Prophet?” Jonas blurted.

That made Odo scoff, “I don’t believe in your Prophets, Bajoran! Maybe you shouldn’t, either!”

Nekea flashed the Lover icon at her throat, “There may be some things in this universe beyond our understanding.”

“There are things that are,” Odo paused, “puzzling.”

“Things like love?”

He didn’t answer. 

“Thank you, Odo.”

“You should go. If Dukat asks, I will tell the Cardassians I lost track of you. If he presses the matter and they somehow trace you here, which they shouldn’t since I erased the logs, I will say you vanished in the mines and are likely dead. I’ll collapse a few tunnels to make the story a bit more convincing. They are not going to go through the effort of excavating the entire mine for a single Bajoran and an unstable Cardassian woman. I don’t think even the Obsidian Order would go to such lengths.”

“I think you are a Prophet and don’t know it,” Jonas quipped. 

“You see Prophets everywhere!” Odo mocked him. “You think your Cardassian woman is some sort of Prophet! Ona, right? And are you Groob? The Lovers? If you were Prophets, you could make all this madness stop! You could end this Occupation, solve all of Cardassia’s problems, and return to your mythical Celestial Temple!”

“Maybe the Prophets can’t curb the evilness of people,” Nekea mused.

“Then they are not gods, are they?” Odo snarled. “No gods I would count on, that is for sure!”

She heard the sounds of a ship. The Changeling transformed into a mouse again and made for the tunnels. The Dissidents had come for them after all and she and Jonas might finally be free.

Months later, the pair was sleeping soundly in a small village on a colony planet when Nekea had a dream. She was in a bed with Dreth Rajo. They were both naked, but there was nothing sexual going on. Instead, they both lay as though they were paralyzed. She felt terrible pain wracking her body. She couldn’t trace the source for a moment. It certainly wasn’t caused by anything physical. Dreth was looking at her in confusion. Then she realized he was causing her torment but she didn’t know how.

She couldn’t move from the bed and away from him. She knew if she could just get out of the bed, the pain would stop. She begged Dreth to stop doing whatever it was he was doing. She told him to free her from this spell. He refused. He wouldn’t stop the pain and he wouldn’t release her. She cried out in agony and that was all she could do.

Suddenly, Jonas appeared between them. He was naked too, but again, the nakedness clearly represented their vulnerability and innocence. He had freedom of movement. He placed his hands on Nekea’s arm. His touch was warm and it seemed to be helping. She felt less frozen by the second and Dreth’s face fell. He reached for her and she felt cold ice in her heart.

Nekea screamed again at Dreth to stop. He refused again and looked at the Bajoran with hatred. Jonas ignored him. He began to pull Nekea out of the bed and carried her away. The moment she left the bed, the pain stopped. She sighed with relief. Her skin began to feel less clammy. Jonas carried her from the room into what appeared to be a tunnel of white and warm light. He held her to him as she wept. The pain was gone and he was warm.

When she awoke, eyes filmed with tears and her wrist aching, Jonas stirred at her side. Her scar had long gone, but every now and again, it ached with a phantom pain.

“Ona, are you alright?” he asked drowsily. “Was it another nightmare?”

“No, my love,” she kissed his hair. “I think it was a dream of healing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Song by Seether "Broken"
> 
> Male: I wanted you to know I love the way you laugh  
> I want to hold you high and steal your pain away  
> I keep your photograph, and I know it serves me well  
> I want to hold you high and steal your pain  
> 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
> And I don't feel right when you've gone away  
> You've gone away  
> You don't feel me here anymore
> 
> Female: The worst is over now and we can breathe again  
> I want to hold you high, and steal my pain away  
> There's so much left to learn, and no one left to fight  
> I want to hold you high and steal your pain
> 
> Together: 'Cause I'm broken when I'm open  
> And I don't feel like I am strong enough  
> 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
> And I don't feel right when you're gone away  
> 'Cause I'm broken when I'm open  
> And I don't feel like I am strong enough  
> 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
> And I don't feel right when you're gone away  
> 'Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome  
> And I don't feel right when you're gone away  
> You've gone away  
> You don't feel me here anymore


End file.
